Yes, it’s true. The ebbs, the flows. The drought, the flood. The famine, the feast. All of it, the good, the bad, the ugly.
Well, that just might be your perception; the good, the bad and the ugly part anyways. In truth, life is a sort of poetry. Call it a book of poems if you will. The gleeful mixed in with the timid. The bold mixed in with the ire. The solemn, well, then there’s that. That is the hard one.
Yes. The loss, the heartbreak. It is hard. I know it is. I know it almost broke you.
Almost.
Yet, here you are. Yes, your heart has weathered perhaps even your face. Your face. Your beautiful face carries this story of love, of loss, of survival. Your eyes tell this story too. There is a depth to them that wasn’t there before. It wasn’t there before…
These moments of your life are like the shells that litter the seabed. Each one has life, each one has meaning. It’s a beautiful mess isn’t it? Yes, it is. A beautiful mess.
You know what they say; no one gets out alive. That’s not exactly true, it just isn’t.
It’s the tide that recedes. Your lifetime, each lifetime has a course to follow. To each a season; some winters just come too soon and some winters seem to last forever.
What’s next? What season are you in? Are you drifting, treading water, sinking or swimming? This is your choice. You get to decide where this sea of life takes you, you chart your own course. Does this mean smooth, calm seas? Probably not. Are you able to weather these storms and navigate through all obstacles? Yes. You have already done so. You have proven your capabilities. You have grown in strength with a resilience in character that has been etched into your heart. Your beautiful, weathered heart.
Channeled message from Gertrud from Liechtenstein, 1870. Thank you Gerti, it’s a beautiful message.