I was greeted with sun rays and tears the other day. Salt water waves warmed by light baptized my face on what was supposed to be my Sabbath. Nothing could rest, though. Especially not my heart -- broken. Pieces tinkering inside my chest as I compassionately encouraged my limbs to move -- I couldn't stay home. So, I was sanctuary bound, routinely.

I was mid-process, mid-thought, mid-sorting out everything that's transpired over the past two weeks. How I went from a delusional optimist to painful realist about my relationships with others.

I am identifying, admitting, owning, forgiving, and releasing my contribution to my emotions' current state. Eventually learning from my guilt, hoping to avoid shame. Remaining attune with my anger, hoping to solicit my own prayers for myself, as well as the antagonists of this 2-week novella. Life's dramatic ... I know.

I'll christen this experience "VIVA" because honestly, I've lived and learned and loved ...

so hard ...

... that it's taught me about life itself. All of the choices about/for myself that I have already and will inevitably make.

Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who hurt you.
— Luke 6:28 (NLT)

Within those choices, rests the arduous decision to pray for those that have directly and indirectly broken my heart ... including myself. Former friends, ex-lovers, even my father/sperm donor (yeah, "daddy issues") have broken my heart. Giving my heart in any relationship is the most intimate and invaluable thing I can offer, in addition to my time. So can you imagine how devastating it is to essentially be shown that your heart is not enough? That your heart isn't appreciated? It's hard ... it effects my self-esteem ... it effects my future relationships. And that's not me; I don't want a hardened heart.

So I pray.

It is physically, emotionally, and mentally impossible to harbor anger towards someone you are intentionally praying for. Have compassion for those who hurt you; offering them the other cheek. 

Life, love ... they're complicated, but don't always have to be. 

Life's not a living lesson if all the answers were inviting. So, I'm embracing the occasional elusiveness, praying for those who teach life's lessons, and praying for the journeyer, me.