It’s usually a sign.
Something needs to go.
Something.
‘But what’ you ask. ‘But what? Won’t my world come crashing down if I let go one leggo stick?
Maybe.
Or maybe you’ll find a new supporting beam.
‘Leggo my leggo’ you protest!
And boom, boom, boom…..a tumble goes that neat little world you kept yourself within, isolated, paralysed in ways.
‘It’s safe’, she muttered. For she knew muttering was appropriate for such a weak stand.
Explorers move through safety, all the while being vigilant and aware.
Birthing a baby I hear is painful, (me happy to have avoided that mess…..me needing numbing agent to have my teeth cleaned).
Birthing a soul, freeing it from it’s confines, that too can be messy and hurt.
All in a days unfolding….
Too much ‘neatness’ can inappropriately confine a spirit, a soul. Though, the right mix of jumble and crash, can shake things up just enough to rally metamorphosis.
Ain’t that keen.
And how fortunate should we have champions holding strongly nearby in support of such brave expansion of heart. Indeed, ooooh, indeed!
BB Webb