Dear God:
This is what I was taught.
Courage is like a mountain top that
it is the realm of heroes and
once we arrive we never have to leave.
Courage
is
a
skill and once we have it
it stays.
A hero is courageous and those with courage are heroes.
The courageous are strong and able and certain.
The courageous sleep well and are
incorruptible.
fine.
My courage waxes and wanes like the moon;
Flows in and out like the tides;
Collapses under the weight of itself.
I am afraid I will not have enough of it when it is called for.
My courage sits there with it’s arms crossed while my fear
makes
a
scene.
My courage is just a little ragged and frazzled and has cramps from
crossing its fingers.
I do not meet courage on a mountain top but in the valley fog.
I have it in limited supply and some days getting out of bed uses it all up.
I think having a hero is natural but aspiring to be one is ridiculous.
If I were strong and able and certain, I would not need any courage
at all
because I would be strong, able and certain.
My courage stays up some nights biting its nails and thinking about calling in sick.
It makes deals and puts conditions on its emergence and misses many opportunities because the conditions it set were just one inch too high.
So, today, I hold it and hope I am not holding it back.
I hold it as though it has felt betrayed by gravity and failure and evil and fear and hope and love and joy and, well,
You.
Somewhere in all that it learns what it is and, as it does,
I inhale it. Deeply.
Before
I start
to Breathe.
Amen.
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