As tears flow generously down the afore stained cheek, he mourns.
For loss of complete family and years of criticism, he breaks.
For neglect and demands and no free space, he wishes more.
While seeking meaning and purpose, he is scoffed.
In deep hormonal imbalance of teen season, he is insecure.
For him, I write love. I write courage. I write understanding. I write meaning. I write purpose. I write eternal security. I write truth. I am his Bible.❤
I am quite sure what one of the miraculous things about the interesting people of this world is that they rarely are able to be consistently constant in their emotional balance. Only boring people, those lacking in imagination and vision are our solid rock steady emotionally balanced souls, and I think even they are wearing that as a facade. We are hormonal, up and down emotionally people and the greater our big picture ability or imagination ot interactions with people or outwardness, the more obvious this is and harder it is to wear a calm mask or facade. It is just a part of it. And those expecting such unchanging, unemotional, rather boringness, are wanting us to pretend more as they do. It is not how we are cut. Now that doesn’t mean we can allow ourselves to be spiking highs and lows within the seam minute as a toddler can, for that is completely lacking self-control and looks positively wacky, but our self-control is acceptable to be tempered with some highs and lows. We must express and work out and share these emotions for they exist for a reason and not doing so will cause them to grow disproportionate to the situation and be harder to control later. But we have them and should not pretend not to. I am on and low and yesterday was on and high, and I know that is part of the grieving process, but I also recognize it and realize it is time for me to write, play the piano, express it, share it, exercise and not let it run wild within me. God bless!