Waiting on Divine Timing

I experienced hate for the first time in 1st grade.

It was inevitable, I know,

But my heart wasn't ready for it.

I experienced doubt, in my beauty, for the first time in 1st grade.

My big, fragile love cracked

just a little, and I became still.

I haven't moved since.

I experienced shame for the first time in 1st grade.

I didn't know the meaning of the word, but I saw

every imperfection for the first time. Hate grew in my heart.

Ugly child. Unwanted child.

Child left behind. Yet,

before I even understood it or had the words,

Something moved

within me.

When I look back on my childhood, I was happy.

I felt loved.

The beauty inside never withered, did not bend or break, never died.

I learned. I watched.

Remained still,

still for decades, until the Spirit whispered it was time to move.

As the cracks multiplied over the years, they blossomed into a tapestry,

A richness, a deep well of love

A flowering tree, with deep roots.

So, I moved.