As Jabez heals so will I

Somewhere in the midst of all this madness, there yet remains a place of peace for me. The mother, the writer, the woman, simply speaking young girl who was never allowed to speak above a whisper. All the bowed heads and swallowed thoughts formed into tiny molecules of black pain that spread out over the course of 30 years. Now the jordan has widened and the showers from the waves free my soul. I speak, I heal, I become, and no one will stop the process of growth for this black woman. As a soft smile lingers, tears form, but this time they are tears of joy, of knowing, of realizing that the years of struggle and heartache were well worth it. As Jabez had a desire to protect his, I shall also protect mine, speaking that which frees the multitudes and gives credence to the words no one really understands. Words like I love you...and in God we trust. As Jabaz heals, I would open myslef so that my internal wounds might be cleansed, scabbed over then healed permanently. Yes, being open, you are exposed, but closing oneself off to healing promotes infection, and don't you think we have enough of that already in this world.