Indigo Aura

by Beth
(NC)


I have always felt out of place. For almost my whole life, I've known my soul had seen through eyes before mine. God has always spoken to me in His creation. The trees and the wind sings more to me of God than a stone building that blocks out the sky.

My fingers are long and beautiful, a golden halo shines against deep blue in my eyes. Sometimes I speak things that others are thinking, things that are just beneath the surface.

I don't know why my friends like me, or why my husband loves me. Sometimes I look in the mirror and a crown shines around my head. I feel like a warrior queen.

Words and books and long ago tales are like old friends of mine. I often cry for those who show great courage and selflessness. They are the marks of a humanity that is slowly eroding away. I see people stretch out their necks and their arms to feel a love that can only come from God. I am not righteous to be the one to tell them how much love there is to be given from Him.

I do not feel worthy of love. My mother brought me into this world in a dying body. She suffered for my chance in life. I feel like I have wasted it. My purpose is strong, I know it is. I pray to lay down what hurts me and to have the foresight to recognize what will help me. I want to be wise. I feel like I am so foolish for hoping I can be.

Something is happening in this world that I do not belong to. It is heaving with the weight of armies. The leaders of our nations are like unknown noises in the night. They are close enough to be known, but he shadows hide their faces.

I will stand before a multitude one day and my voice will be clear. My words will shoot out into the hearts of the people that hear it. I will be undeserving of such attention.

I cannot see the future but I can hear the warnings around me. In anger I will speak a hurtful truth and in kindness I will seek to soften it. Why do I feel like I am apart of something else?
Why do I strain against things that most people accept? How can I hunger for something that I do not deserve? Why do my hands tell me of fear? Can I not break such a bit in my mouth?

God answers my prayers. And he humbles me often. I hope I am not shameful to Him. Help me to be what I am meant to be, oh Lord. Help me to know it when I see it and feel it and not be deceived.

Perhaps I am an indigo child, perhaps not. If so, with great power...

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