I’m not entirely sure I trust God to leave me with all these emotions stretching from nap-time, eyes open and ready to get going with their new day. They remind me of a toddler's first steps, unwieldy yet wholeheartedly lurching into the unbridled joy of exploration. 

It’s what I’ve prayed for, this awakening of my emotions, but now that it’s happening, I feel like I’ll be swallowed up in them. And not just feelings from my past, when I suppressed emotions. But feelings in the here and now. I’m not sure why I’m so unprepared. Is it because I’m not used to them or because they’re registered by my neurology to such an intense degree?

It seems that weeping is my body’s favored response. To beauty. To sorrow. To holding both in my heart at the same time. I feel like I’ll break apart. 

What if the human hearts breaks so it’s open to love the world that God made - the people, the living things both large and small?

What if a heart breaks in the same way a seed coat does, a necessary precursor to a new season’s growth?

What if a heart breaks the way a cloud does to pour life giving water to a parched ground?

               He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3 NASB 

In time, I'll learn to trust God with this part of me, too.