No longer a little light, there is now a fire inside, a flame burning hot and bright.
To some who have known me a long time, it seems frightening in its sudden ignition. But the truest, bluest friends understand "It's about time."
We all come out bloody and screaming into this world, but our unique life experiences stretch us into our unique selves. For some, the changes come early on. Then there's me and all the other late bloomers.
Life throws its punches and I always just adapted and went with it, hiding my little light under its protective bushel. The punches piled up and up on top of my bushel until one day the devil told me lies of such astronomical proportions (through someone I loved dearly) that I couldn't pretend to be who they wanted me to be anymore. I needed to be me, really me. In my darkest moment and deepest pain, I shoved the bushel off and let my light shine, really shine.
The growing pains from that leap into adulthood hurt more than I could comprehend, but the fire burning in me reminded me that no matter what, I was right, and I was being my truest self--take it or leave it.
I struggle at times to keep the flames in check. Life keeps throwing punches, and I keep adapting when necessary, and fighting when adapting is not necessary. Most days I'm okay, but some days my husband has to go downstairs to dig my stuffed cow out of the hot pink tub of memorabilia that was apparently stashed in storage too soon. Because sometimes, I just need a hug from a fluffy, inanimate object that can't talk, yet still knows my deepest darkest secrets and has seen my fattest, wettest tears.
There's a fire in all of us, or a "monster" if you prefer. The fear is that we will either be consumed by the flames or the flames will be stamped out. The key, I believe, is to offer our fires, our monsters, to God, to give them to Him and let Him use them to accomplish His Will. That offering, I believe, which is admittedly easier said than done, is how we will have life, and have it to the full. (John 10:10)
