Sometimes my faith runs dry and my thirst for God's word is nonexistent. I am weak, feeble and down on my luck. Lost in the world with a heavy heart and restless mind. I doubt my abilities, I fear my future and my anxiety flies through the roof. How far I have come means nothing, what I have accomplished seems to be meager and obsolete. I question myself and interrogate my strengths so much they become weaknesses. I look away from the woman in the mirror, staring at the floor instead.
I decline all calls and ignore all texts. I undress, bare bones and naked body. I turn the shower faucet on and as the water grows warmer, I shed the layers I always keep hidden. I shed the tears I refuse to let anyone see. I am me. Pure, frail and vulnerable.
I call this ritual my cleansing. Cleansing of pain, hurt and confusion.
I step in, prepared to wash away my fears, inadequacies and insecurities. The water comforts me, I feel free as everything rinses and rolls away in droplets down the drain.
I say a prayer with my eyelids close. Thanking the Lord for the moments of feeling broken and the moments of feeling whole. My faith is restored. My senses are refreshed. My wisdom is replenished.
I step out, grab my towel to dry and hug myself for not giving in but instead keeping the faith.