Those unspoken prayers - the ones we don't dare pray but which our hearts cannot help but feel - are the most potent.
This past weekend, my heart was praying such a prayer. I was tired. Bone-tired. Weary. Fed up. I felt unappreciated, attacked, undervalued, and like I needed to be constantly on my guard. I'd even taken over a day off last week with symptoms that mimicked a cold - stress-related fatigue was all it was, apparently. All weekend long I "vegged" and slept when I needed to. Even with the extra sleep, I was not looking forward to being with people and avoided it until the last possible minute.
So ... I dragged myself to work this morning, dreading another week - yes, I saw the whole week stretching interminably in front of me instead of one day - another week of doing my best only to have it questioned, of pouring my heart and soul into my work only to have someone criticize it.
As I usually do after an absence, I checked my plants to see if they needed watering.
And I saw a flash of a color I didn't expect - white - nestled among the leaves of my peace lily. One tiny blossom was starting to emerge from the depths of the plant - a peace lily's quiet way of saying, "I like it here."
Now, this plant was one with which I had a special affinity. Once a large and luxurious plant with plenty of foliage and lots of beautiful white blooms, it had slowly become pot-bound and I had to perform surgery on it last summer. I divided it into four plants and gave three of them away; I kept only one. It looked so small and alone - in my own mind, a shadow of its former self.
Like I have been feeling of late. Insignificant, lonely. Plain. Overlooked. Stunted. I wondered if it would ever recover. Or if my own inner transformation would become visible, if it was only a figment of my imagination.
And then, today.
I hadn't been expecting the still, small whisper of the Divine. But as I peered into the depths of the leaves where this small tip of a bud was forming, I heard it.
"You are not alone. There is hope."
This past weekend, my heart was praying such a prayer. I was tired. Bone-tired. Weary. Fed up. I felt unappreciated, attacked, undervalued, and like I needed to be constantly on my guard. I'd even taken over a day off last week with symptoms that mimicked a cold - stress-related fatigue was all it was, apparently. All weekend long I "vegged" and slept when I needed to. Even with the extra sleep, I was not looking forward to being with people and avoided it until the last possible minute.
So ... I dragged myself to work this morning, dreading another week - yes, I saw the whole week stretching interminably in front of me instead of one day - another week of doing my best only to have it questioned, of pouring my heart and soul into my work only to have someone criticize it.
As I usually do after an absence, I checked my plants to see if they needed watering.
And I saw a flash of a color I didn't expect - white - nestled among the leaves of my peace lily. One tiny blossom was starting to emerge from the depths of the plant - a peace lily's quiet way of saying, "I like it here."
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| From : http://www.mybestcanvas.com/detalii_produs/Peace-Lilly-Bud/1323034280 |
Like I have been feeling of late. Insignificant, lonely. Plain. Overlooked. Stunted. I wondered if it would ever recover. Or if my own inner transformation would become visible, if it was only a figment of my imagination.
And then, today.
I hadn't been expecting the still, small whisper of the Divine. But as I peered into the depths of the leaves where this small tip of a bud was forming, I heard it.
"You are not alone. There is hope."
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