Some days everything falls apart.
Some days it feels like nothing will ever be hopeful again.
Some days you think you should wear a sign on your forehead warning people before they come near.
Some days the path you thought you were meant to follow gets lost in the fog.
Some days it’s hard to believe in the wisdom of nature and trust that, like the geese returning in Spring, you will find your way home again.
Some days it’s hard to remember that transformation doesn’t come without surrender. And surrender doesn’t come without pain and confusion.
Some days it’s hard to remember that Spring will always come, green things will always grow again, and what lay dormant will some day be full of life again.
Some days it’s hard to trust God.
Some days it’s hard to trust other people.
Some days you just have to pay attention to the wisdom written on walls and go find a garden to wander in, even if that garden is still emerging from the snow.
Some days you just have to sit with the struggle, be present in the pain, and wait for God to show up there.
Some days you just have to admit that you don’t have it all figured out. And you can’t do it alone.
Some days you have to accept that when you are called to teach something, you will also be called to wander into the depths of whatever it is you’re called to guide people through.
Some days feel like the middle of the fire.
Some days it’s hard to remember that the fire refines the gold.
Some days you just have to go to the centre of the labyrinth, lie on a bench and cry out “Okay Sophia God, whatever it is you’re trying to teach me, I’m listening. See this? It’s called surrender.”
Some days, you just have to remind yourself of the wisdom you’ve gained in the past, and trust that the wisdom you are gaining now is even deeper.