Smile

Smiling through the storm is an art form of the most beautiful kind. The ability to choose to not believe what you see surrounding you, but instead believing in that voice deep inside that shouts, “Don’t you dare stop here! I know it’s hard. I know it’s painful. I know, I know, I know…”
 
But do you not know who you are yet?
But do you not know WHOSE you are yet?
 
Standing in the midst of the storm while the snow falls and hits your face with its biting cold and savage winds burning your cheeks, I want you to lift your arms towards the sky and dare it to move you.
 
Standing firm, smile so effortlessly with your face tipped towards the heavens as a challenge...knock me down.
 
I dare you.
 
The storm, offended by your melancholy, blazes and ravishes your skin with an icy grip that seeks to gnaw at your flesh.
That voice springs forth again, ”Look at me, keep your eyes on me. Do not look back. Do not look to the right. Do not look to the left. Look at me.”
 
The winds will howl and the biting snow will fall but standing amongst the chaos, your smile becomes broader.
Your stance, firmer.
Unwavering.
Calm…
You realize something for the first time:
 
It CAN'T kill me.