A Man of Few Words and a Lot of Faith
Morning time, good music, twilight dawn and a cup of coffee; I am looking forward to a good day. There is not a lot on my mind this morning even though I had some adventurous dreams. My mind is clear, though I feel a little rough. Life is good. I worked through some things last night. I was feeling a little off after a walk and talk with my sister and a friend.
The wisdom of my Stephen always blows me away. I have never met a man with more Faith. This is clearer to me than ever because I have recently rediscovered my Faith, and am building it in a way that I have never practiced. I suppose it makes sense. I have struggled in my past, with Stephen by my side since I was 19; I’ve been hospitalized twice since we got together. All these years he would tell me that everything is okay, will be okay. The solid rock that he is would support my wavering mind as he would cradle my head in the shoulder of his gentle body and I would know this; feel this, experience this, in the most desperate moments of my life that I have ever felt.
He is a man of few words with many stories. But rarely does he speak of himself, his inner workings, his physical pain, his family, and never his childhood. Still, there are moments when his clarity of belief and general strength of spirit reveal itself to me. I know that my lack of this has challenged him, and there is this belief that I still am getting used to that he has. You either have it or you don’t; Faith. Is this true, have I really been without Faith all these years and just leaning on or borrowing his? I know there is that foxhole theory, and I have prayed to God many times when I was so scared about losing my mind and being unable to control the disconnected state I was in; God is who I would pray to . He is who would come to me. Yet I am not sure I really had Faith. I was strong, would persevere, pull myself up, shake it off, let it out on the canvas, tear it up on the town, and yet there I was; alone in the world with my Steve by my side.
And here I am today, understanding the term ‘born again’. I do not prescribe myself to this magazine; however I can’t imagine life before this feeling, this belief that runs from my bones and out my hair follicles. I am not afraid, alone, impatient; I am accepting, virtually unshakable, confident, and separate yet connected. I know that the light surrounds me and encases me; I can keep my head when I lose my cool, and be ever so resilient when I am triggered. I am not regretful of the past, or anxious about it. I accept what is, was and will be. Occasionally I think too much, and like last night, wavered in this feeling and felt uncomfortable in my skin for just a few minutes. But Steve brought me back, around, and there I was landing on his chest, his wisdom my pillow and his breath my guide; ever the rock, beam of light and solid mass of belief that seems to just exist as a peaceful seed inside of him. Yes it ignites his passion, teaches lessons, and can be bright and even harsh. I am thankful for his strength, and again he has been my teacher about the most important lesson a life can bring. Have Faith/ Belief, be it, own it, inhabit it. It is there, or it is not.