Rest easy 

Hands covering mine. My gaze drops and I start to resent the needy weakness rising in my chest. The tension that comes from never sitting still and never being enough. “I need you oh, I need you.” Hands pressing mine. “Every hour I need you.” 

The reassurance comes before I even ask. You are worth it to me – this is worth is to me. Am I worth it all to you?

You unfold a map, pulled from your chest pocket. My eyes lock on yours, rather than the route.

Do you trust me? Trust that I have a vision in mind of who you’ll be? Trust that I can trim those wild branches and errant vines?

Hands clasping mine. Settling into a gentle, simple peace. Sidewalk cafe table, a holy of holies. I count on you like this morning coffee. 

John 15

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