One Day, I will Move Mountains
The person I’m becoming—after I fully process all of this—will move mountains.
I can feel it coming. The strength is rising, not from a surface layer, not from the middle, but from the very bottom. Like an oceanic volcano, it’s rumbling, heating, energizing at the deepest level possible. Reaching this point hasn’t been easy. The journey to even touch this place, to discover it, has been the hardest journey of my life.
The layers have been stripped away—protective layers, barriers, coping mechanisms—blown through and crumbled, rendered non-existent. Trusting the process hasn’t come naturally to me. I’ve scratched and clawed and clung to control because that’s what kept me safe. But it also kept me limited. It kept me stuck—until life, and my soul, told me it was time to explode.
My ego couldn’t let that happen without a fight. She fought bravely, but on behalf of the side of me that no longer served who I’m meant to become. When she lost, it was terrifying. External circumstances wouldn’t allow her to retreat into the shadows, to stay in sadness and nurse her wounds. Medications were introduced to push her forward before she was ready, doing more harm than good.
That time of turmoil became the battlefield where my mind and soul fought for purity—screaming to be heard, to be nurtured, to be healed. That side of me fought on behalf of God and the divine spirit He placed within me. Led by Jesus, this part of me gave me willpower, gave me light, gave me faith.
Faith to trust that this is His path for me. Faith that I will not only be okay when I make it through this difficult time—but that I will emerge as a soul shining so brightly, there will be no choice but to be surrounded by light, happiness, purity, and clarity.
Happiness is on my horizon.
I’ve gone deeper and deeper into myself—diving layer by layer into the waters of my being. And with each descent, it became more suffocating, more difficult, more anxiety-provoking than the layer before. But God was leading me. Drawing me in. A gentle hand guiding me toward my center.
On that path, Jesus joined us. He reminded me that He died for me—to take away my pain, to remove the weight of the world’s sins. And when things got too heavy, He would help. He would carry the burden when I couldn’t anymore. I just had to give it to Him. To them.
And when I followed them through the darkness to my core, I found her—my lost and scared soul. I awakened her. Then I took my match, lit it, and I dropped it into my soul’s volcano. And I waited, uncomfortably, for something to happen.
I put in the work. I nurtured her. I explored and learned how to heal her—how to give her life again. The glow began—faint at first—but each time I conquered something, it grew brighter. The mixing, the churning, the heat created life inside me.
It’s coming—and it will be big. Big inside me. And, if I choose, big in the world.
This is God’s work.
I’ve embraced Him, and He is healing me.