When we are very, very, young I
think our parents whisper small things into our heads. If we are lucky those things speak of love,
and faith, and maybe the future that is laying out there somewhere just waiting
for us.
Then for a time, just like potatos, they lay there buried by the louder and more forceful voices of
our friends and the world around us yelling for our attention.
But for the lucky they find a
quiet time, and those small, far-away voices from our past come back to fill their world with peace, and hope, and maybe a willingness to speak quietly to their children.
In times of sadness and pain it
might be good to close your eyes, focus your mind on the very center of your
being and seek out those voices, and perhaps feel the love of God who has kept
them safe for you to find.
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