She walked across her little world, the one she had created with her own calloused hands. She surveyed what it had come to be as she remembered what it had been. This, was her island. The place she created as a little girl in her dreams, now a real home for her. Here on her island, she could be who she wanted to be, do what she wanted to do, live how she wanted to live. She knew her island well; every grain of sand held a piece of her memory. The blue-green hues of the water matched the color of her eyes. The sun kissed her skin as it mimicked the brilliance of her smile, while the moon stood guard over her dreams. The steady pounding of the waves on the shore set the rhythm of her heart. This was her place.
She rarely got visitors on her island. She was too far away, out in treacherous waters known for stormy weather. People got lost trying to find their way in, and almost always turned around to leave before they got to her. But she wasn't bothered. It was her hands, her heart, her strength that she could trust.
But one day, a visitor did come. A friend, one who had battled along side her before she got to her island, had battled the stormy seas to get to her. The friend could have turned around when others said she wasn't worth it, with the crushing waves, the sharp rocks. The friend chose to press on to see her anyway. The friend asked her why she was here, why had she made this place.
She looked intently at her friend. She opened her mouth to answer but found she couldn't speak. She had never let herself to think about life outside her island. She had never allowed herself feel more than the sun on her face and the sand beneath her feet. Stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the truth she stared back into her friend's eyes. Before she could speak her friend smiled. "You are capable, but you are scared. You are strong, but you are battling yourself. You are loved, but you are alone." "Be Brave," her friend said, "come back with me."
She turned and walked across her little world; the one she had created with her own calloused hands. She bent down and touched the sand, but she did not know each grain. Refusing to let her blue-green eyes fill with tears, she looked out at the water, unable to will the waves to set the rhythm of her heart. Instead her eyes reflected the emptiness she had felt for so long, her heart beat weakly in it's lonely, broken state
She made up her mind and got in the boat. They took up their paddles and pushed off. With every stroke, she felt the pain that she had carried for so long gush out of her. As time wore on the pain eased and her head cleared. She made the choice to never go back to her island, the mirage of it's refuge lay broken at her feet. They pointed their boat toward Hope, where bravery comes alive. Toward Healing, where love goes to win, and where grace abounds. They fought their way back to life, together.