There are whispers of the truth everywhere we turn. The signature of a creator stamped on simple wonders and fleeting thoughts. The trees alone are proof of God, each leaf dependent on sun and root. Stretching high and reaching out, that we may rest in the shade of the almighty. At every turn an invitation, an open door. Remember the devil invites, too- quiet words and long he dwells. And that should caution every choice.
Louder shouts of untruth every place we look. Like sap they stick upon our identity and build up over time. Until we no longer recognize our once true self, a faded image of God. Draping low and staining within, until we accept that this is us. Everywhere we look, the world calls us names. Remember that God named us, too- as he called us before the womb. Beneath the shame the real you.
We hear opinions muttered on every street corner. But if we seek the Way, the truth we must accept, and the light will lead our path. Opinions mirror the lies, but our identity mirrors the Truth. Stand up, like a man, now it is my turn to question you, says your reflection. Remember God is described as a fire, and he will burn the untruth. Beneath the shame the real you.
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