Present moment focused, having something to do with acceptance

and noticing that the fact I am breathing is enough to be grateful for

because patience is gratitude, in knowing that whatever comes

no matter how it looks, is something worth praising

we are built to suffer and worry and work

and to know that there is greatness above us that looks

down at the struggle and moves not an inch

because we are exactly where we're supposed to be.

It's hard to just sit there and take it sometimes

while the pressure to feel pleasure all the time overrides

what we know to be truth, which sits still, small and silent

behind the distracting cloud of excitement that somehow gets confused

with the love we were made for

because it feels good and is easy to access

but to have patience is to work on the quiet

still small voice that whispers in silence

and directs the soul toward the place that it came from

Holiness is not magical

sanctification is not some ambiguous thing

the process we take to unbind our soul

is a long journey that we're meant to take

and so onward walking forth through the mire

while the heavy laden feet continue to lift

and raise the burdened body back to the highest

that place from which we originate

where all the love comes from

and from whom shines down the light and warmth of

purpose.