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    “Let me tell you something. A man ain’t a goddamn ax. Chopping, hacking, busting every goddamn minute of the day. Things get to him.  Things he can’t chop down because they’re inside.” 
    -Toni Morrison


    We sat on the grass at the park. He insisted that we sit under the tree that provided a voluminous canopy above us. It was not hot outside; in fact, it was a little chilly, but I came and sat with him under the tree. We talked and joked a while. He sighed a heavy sigh that traveled from the depths of his soul and came and hung like a heavy blanket over us. I didn't have to ask him what was wrong. The words came out and drowned us both in the despair they carried. When the deluge ended and we sat in silence I looked at him. He hid his face by laying his head on my legs, an unexpected action.
    The sun kept creeping back and forth behind the clouds, causing it to be unnecessarily chilly, but I hardly noticed.
    His body was tense, and I could see the stress and anguish he was desperately trying to hide.  I wanted him to open his eyes to all the amazing work that he had accomplished, and all the things he was accomplishing right now. All that he saw as lack I saw them as victories leading to the epic milestone for which he hungered.
    He kept thinking of what he should've, could've done. I know that feeling. That feeling of wasting time, of missing opportunities, of not doing enough. That feeling of all the things that he could have accomplished so he could be in a better place right now. I know. But I reassured him that he was where he was supposed to be, that if those things were supposed to be in his life they would be, that if they were supposed to be there then this is the opportunity to prepare for them, so that the day they come back he can be ready this time around.
    I assured him that his life was precious; it was worth more than he could imagine. I told him that he was on the right path, that the he needed to keep climbing, keep pushing himself and keep the vision in front of him. Everything would work out.
    I spoke highly of him, told him of my admiration of him. I spoke of his strength; that despite his feelings now, he was still getting up and fighting, still persevering. I told him to rest. His frustration was his soul requesting rest and refreshment. It’s good to rest.
    I caressed his head, stroked his face. Everything is ok, I reassured him. You are doing great. And no, I’m not just saying that. I’m not comparing you to anyone else that’s why I believe you are where you are supposed to be. Comparison is the thief of joy, don’t you know that?
    Thank you, he whispered, squeezing my waist.
    I got you, I smiled. He dozed off.
    I caressed his head some more and prayed silently for him. I prayed for God’s strength to cover him. I asked the Holy Spirit to go ahead of him and clear the path, and asked that He lift off the heavy burden off him; lessen the load. I declared a refreshed spirit on him, that he would receive rest in the next few days. I prayed that upon waking up, his heart would be less heavy, and his mind would be clearer. I thanked God for the promises over his life, and that destiny was pulling him, directing him. I thanked God for his life. I thanked God for His mercy. I thanked Him for the grace on his life, forever and ever, Amen.
    I leaned my head against the tree and closed my eyes, praying for peace and clarity for myself.





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    Chenai.
    28.
    The Lord has given me His words of wisdom....morning by morning He wakens me and opens my understanding to His will. Isaiah 50:4


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