In the shadow of despair is greatness born. Even as you feel your heart heavy; filled as it is with a cynical cement. Your hope it at it’s lowest ebb and you realise that you are that fly caught in the world wide web. It’s when you’re head is stuck in the mire and your soul situation is increasingly dire:

That that first tear of true sadness falls. It is like the first drops of rain shed from the storm clouds into the desert that your idealism has become. Slowly that brain fog made up of droplets of apathy; drenching you in a nonchalant affection drifts away. And the monsoon of heaven pours:

large droplets of compassion strike your upturned, bruised face and burden laden shoulders and you are free. You are drenched from head to toe and later a chill will set in; but you are free again. Free to love, free to care, free to be loved and closer to Him.

Surely as you stumble near the coast of a forgotten land a sea mist may drift in and you will be hidden again for a while but those rains come again and clean and then clear the air. The sun will shine out ever brighter than before and you will catch sight of the tapestry of greatness and the strand you weave; though you catch but a glimpse and you forget yourself again.

Orignally posted on http://tairngir.tumblr.com/page/10