Toeholds and Saplings
Toeholds and saplings ... small but determined holdings.
Sunday I felt a toehold in my soul and it was the sunshine of my day. Then Sunday night it seemed as if all was demolished. Like the day in the Secret Garden when we felled these trees and cleaned the branches. Before you knew it, the slender branches and trunks were lying in piles. The "destruction" was quick ... but it was a good thing.
They had been taken from areas where they were intruding, laid to the ground, stripped and sectioned ... ready to be used. These beautiful and bare branches just hours before reaching to the sky but draining the soil where the grew wild were now the building blocks of restoration and design.
They were put up, taken down, reworked, redesigned, and after all the prototypes were built and torn down, found their place in the project as the centerpiece of serenity adorned with art.
Tonight that sunshine moment started to peek through again. That toehold in my soul which was the first glimmer after months wasn't extinguished long. And even if it was torn down in repeated swaths of broken hearts around me, it is an opportunity to prepare the fallen ... to clean and make beautifully bare these new building blocks life created from the things that were growing where they were never meant to grow.
It's like beauty from ashes. Maybe my life will be a picture of this ... and end up in the centerpiece of a clever, efficient design bearing the artwork of many hands and bringing serenity to the future.