The End of the Story

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I feel as if I’m ending a chapter in my life “story”.  It was a wonderful chapter, maybe one of the best in my book thus far, but its time for the next one, so the story can continue on.

And so, as I was journaling today, I decided to write out an ending for myself as if I was a character in my book.

Here’s what I came up with.  (As far as I’m concerned, its all true!)

…She looked in the mirror and saw not what she wanted them to see, but what was really there…her new forming wrinkles, her blemishes, her fly away hair…but also her beauty, her strength, her vibrancy. She was magnificent, not because she was anything particularly special, but because she was all she could be–herself.  And in that moment she noticed a glow, burgeoning in her chest.  She watched it emerge, growing in intensity, until it was shining brighter than 1,000 suns…it was light, yes, but more importantly, it was also love.

This, light emerging from her depths, held it all, the love she felt for her sweet parents, her brothers, her friends who made her smile, her magnificent husband who holds her hand through it all, and all the people before her. This heart shone with love for everyone who has ever crossed her path, for every animal, for every leaf. But most of all, it shone for her.

And as she recognized this, the light spoke:

“You have been exactly who you were supposed to be all along. All the noise, all the chatter, all the demand—that was just air, an illusion, a subtle breeze.”

And now as she stands looking at herself in the mirror, she knows that all that she feared was a myth.

Love. This glowing heart.  It has always been here, and it will always remain.

“You are forgiven Becky. You are marvelous. I am always here.”

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