Sometimes, it is like building castles in the sand too close to the tide. The edge of the water is never within my control, but I try anyway. That leads to frustration, and I still try. I persevere, and I am met with dissolution. I become so frustrated that I wonder if I should be more aggressive, insisting that things are not so bad. I know that will never win, and somehow, I keep futility like that in check and still lovingly build despite the erosion by the tide.
A peculiar thing happens: the tide yields and the structure is beautiful. There is gratitude and appreciation. Inside of me, I, too, am grateful that I stayed the course of love. In the weakness that I felt, the yield allowed the growth of the most important things, and for this, I cannot possibly assign a value.
Sometimes, I am tired, but the energy that flows when this plays out naturally is unmatched. It humbles me and makes me listen, feel, and relate better. With the wisdom of restraint, I scream inside because what I feel and do will not naturally mesh. I know I am getting stronger because of it, but it can also hurt.
I have no regrets about the restraint I exercise when I patiently allow all of the complexities of our likeness to find their respective places. I also know that had I been weak and tried to make it all better by rushing in and making everything fall into place, the ground I stand on would have fallen under my feet.
As we walk the path of our lives, I have concerns as simple as the struggle just mentioned. I worry I will succumb to my weakness and frustration, feeling I am not helping enough. I hope you are strengthened every time we walk this path, and I showed restraint to allow us both to grow. I hope that I am making everything count so that good choices will be remembered and that I will be a source of strength should I no longer be here.
I never realized all of the impact every moment can make. I now understand the responsibility of it and am sad that wisdom took the time it did. I misunderstood the whole point of everything. Life is strange that way. I hope that I am making up for it. I make every second count. Sometimes, that means that I need my hands tied and my mouth shut so I can watch the beauty of seeing my children grow in their decisions. There is where true peace and contentment live, and there is no place I would rather be.
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