There is the breaking. The falling. The tearing open. The pulled apart. The head buried in the hands. The fists pounding on the floor. The shrieks and the sobs and the why and the why and the why.
This is the broken heart; the grief; the failure; the betrayal; the disappointment; the loss.
There is the waking up in the wilderness. The long and trembling wait. The glimpses of movement in the shadows. The unexpected expansion. The deeper rivers discovered. The reality uncovered. The truth rushing up. The love pouring in and pouring in and pouring in.
This is the dawn that the darkness brings; the light that our ruin lets in; the gold filling the cracks in our shattered selves.
There is the realisation. The astonishment of grace. The response. The renewed or newly discovered purpose. The opening up. The reaching out. The tentative steps forward growing bolder and bolder and bolder.
This is the move from I to us, from me to we; the fierce and tender hope that only eyes that have wept can see; the journey that is goodness, is a terrible beauty, is the message that is written in the marrow of God.