The light is dim today.

Clouds and the sound of tires through the wet streets.

Breathe, just breathe…

but the sorrow seeps into my chest and my heart wound burns and stings as it radiates outward.

Each breath feels like I am wearing heavy chainmail.

Is this chainmail of protection the sorrows of the world?

How do we walk with this weight of armor?

Yes, it is safer.

Wounds inflicted penetrate less deeply,

but our bodies remember the trauma.

Wrapped in the heavy metal of protection we may be safe from mortal wounding, but it remains very dark inside.

Only in the glory of battle can we conjure up enough inner strength to feel alive.

Even then, our moments in battle are limited.

What if we take off the armor?

Contemplating it is sheer terror.

What will protect us?

How will we survive?

Shedding the armor hurts like Hell.

Dark winds arise and all is loose.

Our spirits are free but the howling wind penetrates so deeply that we cannot help but cry out —

WHY?

Leaves flutter and branches become alive.

The first drops of rain pound down.

A strange lightness breaks in the clouds

and the healing waters start to flow.

Whether calmly or in torrents, healing begins with dark clouds and seeps in slowly.

If we took off our armor and were suddenly struck by divine light, we would go blind like Saul.

True healing come slowly,

ever so slowly,

one flicker at a time,

and grows with Eternity,

expanding our souls to see the darkest and the lightest at the same time,

teaching us that our flame within never dies.