Truth. It is a deep, palpable, resonating thing. It resounds deep inside of us when we read it, hear it spoken into being. We breathe in its essence, it’s freshness, when our paths intersect it.
It has happened to me many times, reading a book I actually didn’t truly enjoy. Or even one I did enjoy. But reading a small nugget of truth, of beauty, there is always something inside me that cried out “Yes”.
You see, when we connect to truth, even one we may not like or want to hear, or even one we are not ready to hear (and yes there is such a thing)- there is an echo, a deep resonating feeling inside of us, something that connects with someone else.
Truth, it’s a way for our hearts to connect, to a certain thought, a shared experience, a pain so deeply hidden that maybe it has never come to light, for some of us. That truth reaches into the very depths of our souls. It finds a home there, burrows in a nook or a cranny and dwells there, bringing us hope and a peace, a healing- because there is some other person on the face of the earth who has walked in a semblance of our shoes, has felt a nugget of the burdens we carry. Truth, it’s a powerful thing. A weapon beyond reckoning. Just as Abraham begot Isaac and Isaac begot Jacob, truth begets as well. It is the begetter of hope.