Hot tears slid down the sides of my temples to rest on my yoga mat. The studio was dark and this was the part of my practice of final rest. “Know that you are loved, rest in peace.” The lyrics wove through my battered spirit and each word seemed to catch on a jagged hurt, ripping open pain. I believe tears are emotional blood letting. The saltier the tears, the deeper the hurt.

I rolled up my mat, slipped on my shoes with no idea that this practice would be my last pain free one. Know that you are loved took root and somehow found itself on my every interaction including, Compassion That Compels. So loved was the welcome sign to a safe place.

For a month I scratched an arc-like path with my wheeled walker, toe bearing weight only from recliner to outside patio and back again. Recovering physically from surgery #3 in 6 months was easier than my spiritual recovery. I felt distant from God and below sea level faith had replaced my mountaintop experiences. I could’t lead myself and most certainly not, Compassion That Compels.

If you can’t get past the insecurity, you will never allow Jesus to heal the wounds of inadequacy.

When I could stand with feet firmly planted, I chose to stand before my bathroom mirror – and I cringed. I was more scars than skin in some places. And in that moment, I broke. I wasn’t brave and didn’t want to be. I felt ugly and as if all the good had been sucked out of me. Physically, I stepped from the mirror and spiritually began the long way back to my space of God’s love. 

We talk often in yoga of “holding space” for others. Some do it on a conscious level with their actions and I do it in a virtual space with social media. It’s my mission and my calling. Lately though, I am social distancing from social media, spending time with a social currency of love. It is where God has brought me and where I promise to hold space for you. I can’t hold your hurts, fears and suffering, only God can do that and only Jesus can heal the brokenness. 

 Above all, know that you are loved…

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