inspiration. It’s a word, that as you know, has become a living, breathing thing that I cling to on a regular basis.
A year ago, that word was not in my regular vocabulary. It wasn’t on my mind. It wasn’t something that I felt compelled to follow, seek, or listen to. as a mother, I felt inspired on behalf of my children every day. And sure I followed intuition and “gut” feelings often. I sometimes said my prayers like I needed answers, like there was someone listening to them. I occasionally flipped open my scriptures and read while my mind wandered aimlessly. I was crossing my t’s and dotting my i’s. For the most part anyways.
i was keeping my head above water. playing the part of “everything’s okay over here, carry on”. When something would come up, some mini sized crisis of my faith, I could feel a little crack in me… but I just kept going, not stopping to care for that small wound. one small crack, and another. A burning question that seemed unanswerable. Anger about circumstances out of my control. a numbness for things I once had a wild passion for. And a… shiny mirage-ish like blur to truths I would have once laid my life down for.
Until I broke. Have you ever felt that way? Broken? Past repair? like.. one more day isn’t a possibility? Like surly, there was no one to relate to you, comfort you, or love you. That numb feeling that makes you float through the fog unaware of just how foggy it even is.
It’s scary. And exhausting.
But here’s the thing…. inspiration. It isn’t something that will barge into your heart. It isn’t something that will scream over the loudness of your stress, your fear, your anger, your questions. It isn’t something that will physically reach out and grab your hand. It won’t force Its way in.
It has to be sought after… and not casually. not when you feel on your A game, or when the stars align.
Inspiration for yourself, your life, your soul.. comes when you need it more than air. When there is nothing more important. When you decide to stop treading water, when you stop filling every minute of every day with “stuff”. When you stop listening to your self doubt and self hate. When you stop listening to the world, it’s opinions about you, your faith, your gender, your worth. When you close the door on whatever is lingering in the corner waiting to smother the light out of you.
Pure inspiration from our Father Himself is possible. Its there, its real, and it’s for you. you. individually. By name. Right this minute. Those cracks in your heart, in your faith, in your mind.. they can be healed. They can become beautiful pieces of you that are no longer life sucking, faith destroying parts. But instead strong, converted, empathetic, empowering pieces of who you are to your very core.
Just like when we do that first 5 pushups and the next day can’t lift the jug of milk, the first 5 steps towards seeking inspiration like it’s oxygen for your burning lungs hurts. It takes effort. It is hard. And the next day, it might not be rainbows (or biceps) the next day might be hard too. And maybe even the next 365.
Inspiration is not going to come easy. It won’t fill your heart up without you lunging towards it. Reaching out, seeking it, praying for it. Needing it and wanting it more than air.
the Light of Christ, or inspiration, or the love of God isn’t like being held under water. The first lunge towards light, and light will be there. It might not be 12pm light in the middle of July, but light will be there. You just have to take that first step. Say that prayer. Open your heart to light, to the kind of inspiration that paves the path for everything else.
I realize I’m just one person. And my experience of life isn’t your experience. i am not you.
But, I know, with every fiber of my being, through the love of God, ashes can be restored to beauty. Light can leave no darkness. Good can overcome bad. Love can overwhelm heartbreak. Faith can conquer doubt. Inspiration can be the force that changes our lives.
This isn’t a generic open letter.
Its to you. It’s for you.