blissful recounts of gratitude.

This week was just filled with many blessings. Everyday I come home and feel a sense of lost wonder, in awe at how I’ve lost the words to truly describe all the beauty that has been captured.

My eyes have grown to become so accustomed to see God’s love, and it’s rippling all throughout the realms of existence. It gets too hard on me sometimes to begin to explain how grateful I am. My trials get mistaken for enthusiasm, passion and energy— but it’s simply that I’m just trying to explain how beautiful God’s love is.

This light is impersonal, and it has nothing to do with me and my efforts. That is what keeps hurting me incessantly, forking a deep wound of just wondering why all these gifts are so unreasonably abundant.

 

I can’t help but go back to my fears of not feeling like I deserve this. I go back to judging myself so that I am worthy enough to receive this light, and the trail of imperfections is ever-infinite.

My companion told me, just this morning, that we never deserved it. That’s how it is. It’s impersonal, and we don’t deserve it. As painful as it is, nothing we do will make us earn more of this light. It’s the nature of God’s love. It keeps rippling.

Let me recount all my blessings. It’s less lonely when it is shared.

My students won in the spelling bee competition we had earlier. An intuitive voice told me to include the ones who need the opportunity to bring forth their best selves apart from their academic level. It was an opportunity to heal their anger, self-confidence and self-worth issues.

I received a gift. It was the most mouth-watering cake ever, that actually is incredibly expensive. A parent sent it to me, crashing into the staff room with the principal just to thank me in front of everyone.

What made it even more heart-breaking is that I received the cake on one of my learners’ birthday, so we had something for our lesson to celebrate.

I slept that night finding tears. 

It was cold this week, but the sun shone brilliantly through the blinds and through the cracked blossoms of spring. I’d wake up too early and rush to the garden roaming around to witness life emerging from its winter. 

The peach tree we have planted has this one blossom, which has turned into a young peach. The beauty of witnessing all life forms give gifts with all they have of their existence is heart-shattering.

Even our little pine has found its needles to nurture. I planted a little sunflower seed to keep his wondrous, timely growth warm and sweet. I enjoyed how ugly my nails looked all day, and how I keep messing my clothes with pollen and dirt.

I had a little meeting with one of my learners from last year. She is a dear old soul named Joumana. We had the most heart-shattering conversation about love and life, and it breaks my heart to see her eyes tear up while we talk. We hugged trees and exchanged letters. Her soul is ancient, and she holds so much empathy and connection to God that I think will gift the world remarkably. I always finish our meetings and feel like I am ready to die, having witnessed children that are filled with love as pure as this.

And now, children’s infinite love and all that they teach me. Their joy and enthusiasm. Oh, how could I describe the way we lost track of time in class discussing the societal and environmental impacts of supply chains? I feel utterly wordless and useless right now. And how they’ve all mentioned things that even university students take so much time to learn. 

And how little Zein learned to pick flowers for her teachers after I gifted her flowers earlier last week. My heart teared up, if that is even possible.

I spend my Thursday afternoon with a student who is sitting an exam to get accepted into the system. It’s for free, and so I am not obliged to do anything, and I let the love between us dictate the doing. It’s much more beautiful that way: when gifts are free.

People look at me and tell me “you look different!” I’m not sure what they mean, but I can also tell that everything about me feels different these days. 

And how it felt when a teacher who has become too engrossed in the Enneagram told me “Soraya, thank you for teaching me all this!” when I actually haven’t done anything for her. We only had effortless conversations about our passion for understanding people deeply.

This morning, I had a meeting with an environmental consultant who wishes to form an institution one day solely built on cultivating love for the world. She uttered my dreams and again, I broke apart inside. How is this even possible?

Today morning, I broke apart with my companion as I forgave how I panicked before all this love. I am only filled with imperfections today, unable to give much to God. I even struggle to pray correctly. Still, He gives endlessly, and I don’t do anything. It just keeps happening through His presence.

I’m scared, but I’m also safe. I feel as if I need to be held and comforted since it’s just.. too much for a human to handle. I’ve never asked for anything. It is only the eye that has opened itself to see the truth weaving our world together.

It’s only love.