He asked me a very simple question. ‘Why?’
‘Why does it matter?

I tried to give a strong and thoughtful answer.

He didn’t give up; ‘And why are you afraid of that?’

I gave another logical answer but I could tell I was gradually being found.

Why, why, why. He kept asking me a series of ‘why’s until one by one I let go of every balloon I had hoped would cover me, then lift me up and away from the gravity of truth.

Balloon 1, 2, 3 were gone. They kept leaving with every probing ‘why’ he asked me and as my answers became more honest and painful.

I was there- found and naked in my most fragile moment.

Seen, guilty as charged, yet loved all the same. Then and only then healing could begin to fill all those crooked hidden empty spaces. Then and there love and acceptance could find those jagged places and tell them it was okay for the sunlight to shine on them.

It was okay to not be perfect.

And for some reason, it was from my fragile imperfection I could begin to be strong, and I could finally share my heart’s song.

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