How many times have I almost given up?
I say, I can’t do this.
I say, I’m going to sell my camera because I can’t see a way to make this work.
But every time, something happens:
The tide turns.
The wind changes.
Or I travel to an island with a dear friend and we wander along the water and pick up seashells and share stories about sickness and wellness, sorrow and hope, and even though we only met in person for the first time yesterday, it felt as if we’d known each other for years.
The water we crossed last night wasn’t very deep and wasn’t even very cold, but this image keeps making me want to cry because I spend so much time feeling caught neck-deep in currents too strong for me, and because Melissa, in her life-long battle with Lyme Disease, every single day crosses waters so much deeper and more terrible than these, but she keeps crossing step by step, and she does so with such grace that everyone around her feels the light cast by her mighty heart.
Here is courage.
Here is hope.