It Is Never Easy, Is It?

I guess the first thing I should do is to define it. Right now, at this paragraph, it is my life; and, some days I wrestle with it, and it puts up a good fight. I have no complaints, God so unconditionally smiles on me; yet, every now and again, it feels broken and out of place; much like a bone that was never set properly for healing....it hurts.

Ok, let's say that it is my choices. It now becomes life and the choices that we make. Only the results allow us to know if we hit it on the head; or, if it will bite us on the butt. We either rejoice or feel remorse about it; yet, what can you do, but live with it? It stares you in the face and doesn't let you forget that it has to be dealt with. Oftentimes, and if allowed, it will eat you alive. Sometimes, it feels impossible to live with...it is a vicious cycle of never-ending choices....it makes you crazy.

Now, this has nothing to do with it; but, it will lead into the third of it, regardless:

I am reminded of a story, whereas a young girl went to a wise woman, and confessed that she had said some things that caused hurt and pain to others. She wanted to know what she could do about it to make amends (it, ironically becomes remorse). The wise woman advised the young girl to gather up a bag of feathers, and that night, to take them and place one on the doorsteps of everyone that she'd hurt.

On the same night, the young girl did as she was instructed, and felt so relieved to know that her penalty was one of such ease. She placed the feathers on each doorstep, headed home and slept in peace. The following morning the young girl went to the wise woman and delightfully explained that her mission was complete; but, just as she was about to thank the wise woman for her advice, the wise woman explained that it was only a part of her task (it is never what it seems).

She then advised the young girl that, for the next night, she must go back and retrieve every feather that was placed on all the doorsteps. The young girl became biligerent, and exclaimed, "I can't get those feathers back; as soon as I placed them on the doorsteps, the wind took them away". The wise woman smiled, and said, "And, so like the feathers in the wind, are the words that we speak to each other; once uttered, they cannot be retrieved".

It must have been love; but, is it over now? Does it ever end? And, if so, can it ever proclaim that it was love? Is it of God? Does it go from everlasting to everlasting; does it have a beginning, and does it have an end? It is the tool we use to serve others; shall it ever be used as a tool to serve ourselves? Does the heart that gives of it, then becomes the heart that receives of it; for it knows no boundaries? It is not conditional; yet, it conditions. It is never found in discord; yet, it is the cord that binds.

It now becomes every degree of loss. It is knowing that what once was, shall never be again; it could be life, it could be the choices we made in life, it shall be the loss of love in this life....as we know it. It is everythiing, and then it is nothing at all. It will not be foretold, we must live, choose, love, and lose; and, before we know it, it is gone.