A fundamentalist turned freedom chaser with an obnoxiously stubborn faith.

And there are monsters

Little ones,

You are unaware, yet so aware. You are navigating with us waters we have been thrust into. We did not ask for this. But you are full of grace and second chances and patience and expression. You rail against things you don’t understand (darlings, I don’t understand them either), but then you move forward. And move back. And it’s lovely and hard and I admire you.

I want you to know that life is beautiful. That people can be… Supernatural. They can love like heroes – they can save lives and find value and beat death. I want you to know that there are things here worth pursuing. There is friendship – the real, raw, yummy kind that burrows deep and brings you joy. There is caramel and chocolate, strawberries and cantaloupe. There are sights that make your heart hurt in wonder, places that make you feel small in the best way. The sun sets and rises and it is remarkable every time, all you need to do is look at it.

And, there are monsters.

This world is a place I’m glad to be a part of, but it is not safe. I want you to know this, too. Because sometimes the best, most light-filled person you know might be overtaken and that is something you must live through. That is something you are living through. There is unspeakable beauty here right alongside insufferable evil.

And it’s yours. This place is complicated, and so are you. There is magic here you don’t need a wand to conjur up. I want you to be bold in this life. I want you to know you are brave and you are hope. Right now you believe because you haven’t yet forgotten that Good wins out. I’m going to warn you this is a spell – it’s The Spell – that can’t be broken, but it can be lost so hold fast.

I want you to know that you will soar here and you will fall. Hard. And I want you to know that there is no answer for why which will satisfy your anguished inquisition when you face the world’s injustices, confront life’s deep absurdities. I want you to know that sometimes it just looks like the monsters are winning. I’m sorry. It just does. Night time seems to last the longest.

But here is the thing, my babies: Mornings always come.

Sometimes I wish I could spread my arms so wide and make myself so big that you couldn’t even see the carnage of the monsters. That you could stay innocently trusting of the love you swim so confidently in. Sometimes I understand why parents lie to their children and tell them there is no reason to be afraid because I see how I might have thought I could get big enough to block you from the worst. But it came up close to you and I couldn’t hold it back. You lost her to death before you knew that things could die and so the option has been taken from me. And not for her death, but I am glad. She handed off the gift of Truth to you as she left and it holds me accountable.

I love you so much and that won’t always be enough. But when it isn’t, hold on. Monsters hate the morning.

All my love,

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