This week, on Thursday at dusk, wherever you are, step outside.
Feel the cooling air, the shifting light,
the moment between day and night.
Stand in the threshold of evening,
holding whatever you are carrying.
Whisper:
"I do not wrestle alone."
And then, ask yourself:
What have I been grasping for?
What am I afraid to release?
What might be given to me in return?
Know that others are standing in the same fading light,
whispering the same prayer.
A shared breath.
A shared moment.
A quiet tether in the expanse of this season.
THURSDAY: HOLDING THE TENSION
Theme: Between Fear and Trust
Sacred Invitation: Learning to Hold What We Cannot Yet Resolve
Wrestling is not always about resistance.
Sometimes, it is about learning to hold tension.
Jesus knew this tension.
In the garden of Gethsemane, He held both His deep sorrow and His deep trust in God.
He prayed for another way, yet surrendered to the path before Him.
We, too, hold tension in our lives—
between wanting clarity and learning to trust,
between longing for control and surrendering to mystery,
between fear of the unknown and the courage to take the next step.
What if we don’t need to resolve this tension, but learn to hold it?
A Somatic Practice: A Hand-to-Heart Gesture
Before the day takes hold, before you rush into tasks, pause.
Place a hand over your heart. Feel the steady rhythm of your breath.
Ask yourself:
Where am I feeling tension today?
What fear am I carrying?
What trust is also present, however small?
Breathe into both. Let yourself feel them without rushing to fix them.
Whisper: "I can hold both fear and trust. I do not have to choose one over the other."
Let this be enough for now.
Closing Reflection: A Prayer of Surrender
Jesus, in His wrestling, whispered:
"Not my will, but Yours be done."
Tonight, as you prepare for rest, sit in stillness for a moment.
Imagine placing your fear and your trust into open hands—
not gripping them too tightly, not forcing them away, just holding them gently.
Whisper: "I do not have to resolve everything tonight. I can hold this tension and still be held."
Let yourself rest—
not in certainty, but in presence.
You are held.