In my sanctified imagination, I see a woman running through the woods, whizzing past the impossibly tall trees surrounding her. To make her way through, she squeezes between densely packed tree trunks, climbs over their fallen brethren, and combs through the thick and thorny underbrush that cuts into her clothes and the skin below. The birds above and the critters below warn each other of her passing, a raucous symphony happening around her. But they stay out of her way.
There’s no path or trail for her to follow, only the sun, moon, stars, and a sweet, small voice inside her to guide the way. She’s tired but can’t stand to rest. There’s no time to waste.
She’s crossed cities and seas, mountain ranges, and low-lying plains trying to find her way back to the pieces of herself she left behind. Finally, finally, she’s close. She can’t see it or tell how long until she reaches it, but somehow, she has certainty. She’s so close, she can feel it.
On the horizon, just beyond the edge of the wooded landscape sits the home where she left them. It’s the burial place of her emotions – something she never thought she would need.
Where she came from emotions weren’t a thing, and really, there were only three, happiness, anger, and sometimes fear. The emotional palette she was born with wasn’t useful or welcome. So, to cope, she buried it, not knowing that self-love, compassion, and healing would require them someday.
In their absence, she became cold, relying heavily on what was left, her intellect, to guide her. But when she met God, they eased her into the understanding that she was missing something important, something necessary to be who they made her to be. So, she had to go back.
She had run so far – around the world, in fact. She hoped this return would be worth it. She hoped that she wasn’t too late.
For what? She didn’t know. Could they be ruined? Become misshapen and ill-fitting? Completely destroyed even? But God wouldn’t send her if success wasn’t an option. God wouldn’t do that.
There’s silence around her now as she nears the edge of the wilderness. The chatty birds and scurrying animals seem to be holding their breath. As she continues forward, the treeline gets thinner and thinner, gradually revealing the simple home set in the meadow beyond them.
Stopping at the grass, she released her breath, only afterward realizing that she had been holding it. She hadn’t known what to expect. The well-maintained scene before her is a welcome surprise. Who had kept this place, she wondered.
As she gazed across the field, movement by the house caught her eye. The front door had opened, and something was thrown out of it. It fluttered out and down onto the front steps and didn’t move. She watched this happen again and again until the steps were barely visible.
Moving in closer, she could see that a vibrant mix of yellows, greens, oranges, reds, pinks and purples, a rainbow of color, in varying shapes and sizes covered the ground around the door. Wait, are those … flower petals?
She scanned the area around her. She thought she was alone in this place, but clearly, whoever was in the home was expecting company.
She figured that if she wanted to get hold of what she came for, she better get it now before whatever the owner of the house was expecting got started. With determination, she swiftly crossed the grassy field, closing the ample distance between wooded wilderness and the house.
Now nearing the blanket of petals, she noticed a small sign hung to the right of the door. In handwritten script, it said “Welcome” and her name. Shocked, she stepped backward, tears welling in her eyes. “This is for me?,” she said aloud. But there was no response. It was obvious, she thought to herself.
“Hello?” She said, cautiously stepping forward, hoping a friendly voice would greet her. But again, no response. She swallowed hard. In a split-second, this had become scary. But she had come so far. It was now or never.
Gathering her courage, she walked through the petals, gathering a handful on the way, and up onto the stairs, stopping at the open door. Just beyond it was a brilliant, almost blinding light. She looked away, unable to handle the glare.
A few seconds later, she tried again and now found it easier to take in. She couldn’t make out a distinct size or shape, but soon felt a warm, calming sensation course through her body, as if confirming that she was safe. In the space of a moment, she couldn’t imagine a more perfect place to be and crossed the threshold into the light.
Creatorskind 