I have this image in my head. In it, I'm covered in cement dust, I've got sweat stains on my t-shirt, contentment on my face, and strength instead of muscle. It took awhile to balance, but it seems I finally have a grip on how to plant peace and reason in hardened hearts: don't.
For so long, I've tried to force opposition to quit. I grab my pick-axe and go to it; hitting ground that won't be broken, forcing the soil of my heart into cracks formed by the hatred and mockery of others. But my defenses are still a paste: malliable, dissolveable. I feel this makes me good. I feel the title of Peacemaker is earned by accomodation.
There was a shift last week. Actually, the shift (like all) started slowly, years ago. My years, and the aches that came with them, have led to that recent heel turn in my driveway. There had been another false encounter at my door. Again, I took a swing at my boundaries; I blamed them for caring. Again, I began to work out how to fix this one. What shape should I take? What approach is best here?
And then, mysteriously and on their own, the last bits of my trying gave way to something greater: release. I was merely getting something from the car, and then, without warning, my heart and sightlines were clear. I looked up at my house while I breathed fresh this new perspective, a little bewildered at how good it felt to let my pain go. I counted the souls under my roof, the love in those walls, stood humbly at the thought of it all, and left my pick-axe to the Hands that save me. On the walk back up my driveway, I found I'd been given something else. In place of all my lines: a smile. Contentment, it seems, comes fast. Peace can not be forced, no matter the intent. No matter how grand the opposition: You need to let it go.
The cornerstone of my home will not be anger, nor spite, nor reaction. We take those stones and set them in whatever cement we choose; you may throw them, but we will coat them in love and build with them. Other stones, we'll find. Some will be heavy: death or loss, grief or growing pains. Some will be light, like a giggle, adding interest, detail, rest. We'll set them all the same: together. We work not against the pain life causes, but from love. We are content here, we are at peace, we are at home.
|Oxana Guryanova. Link.|