We show up in all the ways: tired, joyful, troubled, satisfied, lonely, bubbling over, and all the ways you can think of. But we show up, and we write for five minutes every Friday on a one word prompt. It’s one of the best communities you’ll find online. Want to join us? Go here for all the details. Now, let’s write.
I don’t feel it. On this night when I have yet again dodged the blows and the sharp, pointed words aimed at my heart. I feel anything but mighty. I feel small and weary, that’s what I feel. I feel wounded, left bleeding on the battlefield. I want to get up and walk away but I can’t.
Under the weariness and the tears and the desperate desire for answers, my heart still beats.
There is Something mighty at work in me.
It’s not of me, it’s in me. And that’s what keeps me walking this path, one foot in front of the other.
On the days when I want to give up (and there are a lot of those), that Something (Someone) in me whispers of hope.
It’s not over yet.
There’s still hope, as long as my heart still beats.