Lava

Dried out. Stuck. Barren. These are words I would use to describe my spirit the past few months. Nothing catastrophic has happened. But I still feel as if I’ve been slowly drying out. A light reprieve here at there, but you know what I’m saying.

Then I cracked. Not in a broken pot sort of way. In a volcano sort of way. A deep kind of cracking that reaches down beneath the surface layers where life is carried out.

And maybe the stripping and drying and breaking was for a point. It was so those things that are at my core can come to the surface and reshape the landscape. (Also, I think I needed some things burned and cauterized.)

What broke through in my life? Inspiration. Identity. Purpose. Determination. Joy.

Like fire shut up in my bones.

Be prepared for the lava flow.





(Complete and utter side note: Did you know “volcano”s were named after the Vulcano island off the coast of Sicily, which was named for Vulcan, the Roman god of fire? I’m totally having a Star Trek moment. Vulcans. Perhaps because for as calm as they appear, there’s a lot going on beneath the surface.)