a letter to myself, both in present and in moments passed

 To my loving angel,

I see you curled up on your bed, crying. I see you screaming inwardly at yourself, wondering why these tears are coming. You can’t see how tired you really are, babygirl. You can’t see how much good you’ve already done.

I hear your broken words asking where your Heavenly Father is. I see your face scrunch up and watch as you cover your eyes with your palms, shaking with quiet sobs. Oh, dear one. Can’t you see He hears your prayers? Can’t you feel Him beside you, cradling you, letting you cry?

I can feel the confusion in your young mind as you struggle to understand a dilemma knotted up inside you. And I can see you now, having understood it just by remaining in that moment- a moment you thought would tear your soul in two! Don’t you see, love, that learning takes time? That your Father would have never sent you here if He didn’t want you to learn the fullness of His gospel?

I see you approaching the present moment, and can feel the light in your mind as you realize the truth. That Heavenly Father never left you. No, He was always there. He was answering your prayer by letting you figure it out. He knew the only way for you to derive true strength was for you to keep going. He knows the light always breaks through just after the darkest moments.

And here you are now. You know the answers. You know how you feel about the gospel and the standards. You know that it’s okay for you to have these feelings- and if you didn’t, now you do. It’s okay to feel this way. You’re human. It’s experiences like this that help you grow. I have you in my arms, and we’re going to keep going. We know we’re blessed to be alive in each moment. We know God is holding us.

Every beat of the music matters. We will dance.

I love you, babygirl.

oxoxo,

blissfully yours,

Emma