Once upon a time there was a girl raised among the wildflowers.
She danced in fields of lilac and gold. She slept under silver skies. She dreamed believing the realm of her imagination would grow into a world of possibilities.
It was among the wildflowers that she experienced music – the sounds of swaying trees, chirping birds, secrets told by the grasses as they were tickled by whispers of the wind.
It was also in the painted fields that she experienced magic.
The thunder that she felt in the core of her being. The rain that kissed her skin. The sunshine that warmed her soul. The invitation to dance in the clouds as they floated down to meet the earth. The delicacies of each unique flake that danced its way to down to frost the ground.
Once upon a time there was a girl who believed.
She believed the wildflowers would return after the winter frosted her painted fields with white. She believed the rain would once again kiss her skin, even when the sunshine was beating down and the clouds were nowhere to be seen. She believed that the secrets told in the grasses were pure and good and kind. She believed in the middle of the silence that her soul would soon be moved by the music that would again course through the atmosphere.
Once upon a time there was a girl who never doubted in the existence of blue skies. In the warmth of sunshine. In the caresses of rain. In the graceful fall of snow. In the kind secrets of windblown grasses. In the soothing nature of wind. In the silver skies. In the golden, lilac fields. In the clouds that love to dance. In the rumbling, soul-awakening strength of thunder.
Once upon a time there was a girl raised among the wildflowers. A girl who didn’t doubt in magic when the magic disappeared. A girl who still believed when there seemed to be nothing present for her to believe in.
I met a lot of incredible women last month. Women with big dreams. Women who had overcome trials I can’t imagine. Women in the middle of circumstances that seem hopeless to outsiders looking in….and hopeless to a lot of the insiders sitting next to them.
I met a lot of women who haven’t lost sight of the magic. Women who sit in places with booming speakers but hear the music of the fields. Women who are surrounded by flashing lights and laser pointers but look up and see the silver skies. Women who are covered in goosebumps but feel the warmth of the sunshine. Women with all the reasons in the world to cry but still sat beside me with genuine smiles on their faces. Women who hear the shameful secrets of their customers but whisper the kind secrets of the wind.
And history was changed upon the cross
With victory you rescue all that’s lost
And silence will be broken with our lives
As we live out the love of Jesus Christ
What our eyes have seen our hearts cannot ignore
We’ll lead this generation to the glory of the Lord*
“What our eyes have seen our hearts cannot ignore”
I’m grateful to have seen these women. To have seen their circumstances. To have heard their stories and dreams. To have called them friends.
I miss them. My heart hurts for them and longs to know the rest of their stories. But I’m grateful for the excerpt that I got to be a part of. It helps me be more like them. More like her.
The girl who was raised among the wildflowers.
*Take Courage by Lindy Conant & The Circuit Riders
