My breath is burdened, the summer air is heavy on me, turning night skies into stories. In-between some 50mm shots I wanted to tap my way back into some public reflection writing.

Writing has always been the only place where I can feel my voice getting louder than all the words floating around me. It has been safe, untinged. It was caged for a while, judged, misunderstood, messy, dark, hopeful and reached a lot of wrong ears just to leave me thinking in this very moment, that I am more grateful than ever to be able to feel this intensely and have my closed tears filled with dreams. Like a gift that was poured out in my heart, whispering to note everything down as if I would engrave truth where lies would try to tinge.

I’ve had long talks with my friend speculating about when to know if you are trying to talk yourself into the idea that you’re are going through a valley when in “reality” you’ve been ditched into a whole and it is only going to get worse from now on. It is incredibly hard to imagine ever feeling wonder and joy again in the most authentic parts of yourself when you are in the midst of a storm that is testing your foundations. How easily we can give up on life is something that shows and brings up our underlying fears and anxiety telling us that life is not for us- that God is not for us. Letting that fear arise will help us to realize that we can feel the pain and see what is driving us subconsciously.

Grace has not left your side, you are in the middle of a storm, you are on a journey, you are going through a valley and I promise- you have purpose, you are held.