After The Rain

After the rain there is a quiet, bright,
tangible newness about the world.
The lingering droplets that still fall from the sky
are a telltale sign of what has passed,
but the invigorated grass is proof
of what has already been made new.

My sneakers meet the pavement,
sending tiny sprays of water up my legs.
I breath in the cool, damp air,
my eyes scanning the now muddy fields.
Hiding under the eves of the porch,
I was not washed by the sky's tears,
but now I can be part of the bathed earth.

If only there were a heavenly rain
that could touch the soul;
clean old wounds of hurt,
wash off the dust of fear.
Then maybe, just maybe, we could walk
and not droop our shoulders
under the weight of what this life holds.

For now, I can only touch the wet ground,
see the reaching leaves, breathe the moist air.
And as I run, chasing after the clouds
that refreshed the earth, I imagine that
after the rain, there is a quiet, bright,
tangible newness about me.

An Invitation to Believe Better Things

I love people.

Everyone you love will, at some point, disappoint you.

That is one of the hardest truths for me to swallow.

I love people. Some may think "well yeah, you're an extrovert", but that's not what I'm talking about. I love people. My family and friends and mentors and kids I babysit. I tell people that I love them. Not just my parents and my boyfriend, but others that I am close to as well. Some find this weird. Some aren't sure how to handle it. But I tell them anyway, because some people don't hear it enough, and others hear it too much in meaningless ways.

I love people. And that gets me in trouble. Sometimes I try too hard to make them happy. I wear myself down, suffocating in my own worries and pain and questions that I leave unsaid in favor of listening to others. Sometimes I become so enthralled with the beauty of another's soul that I become blind to the inevitable flaws it has. I defend and justify furiously when I should really accept them as humans, who are as imperfect as I am, and allow them space to heal.

I love people. And they disappoint me, just as should be expected - not in a cynical, jaded way, but in an "you are human, and I recognize that" way. Sometimes my love clouds my vision, and I forget that they are more than the perfectly formed robot I have subconsciously imagined they are. Sometimes I am the sole reason for my disappointment.

I love people. And I won't apologize for it. It looks crazy. It hurts every now and then. But I will keep loving. Because you are a beautiful child of God, and you are worth it all, regardless of the pain that may come from it.

You are worth all the love I can give and much, much more.