My mother use to call me a cry baby because I would cry for whatever reason. I don’t recall for what. Look at me wrong and I would cry. As I think back, I was a tough little cookie (lol). This projected tough exterior was, at least, my outer shell of protection, afterall, I had to cover me somehow. In essence, I was delicate beyond my understanding, perhaps even fragile as I bottled my fears.
Today, I still cry and/or tear around things, quite easily, and I’m not ashamed to admit that. I believe that I still have that tough outer exterior, which has become, with balance, a part of my strength. The truth is I am yet a softy inside, that of which I fully embrace. A relatively new discovery that shines light on these fluid emotions is, I am empathic.
I Bless God for this as it is this softness that lends to my compassion for people; and the toughness is but a cover or strength that I receive from God to walk out this walk. I have learned and I’m still learning to guard my heart.
God knew this journey would not be easy, even sometimes very lonely, as He knew what He called me to, even before my conception.
PeaceToTheLIFEofLove ♥
