“Man is not born with wings”

A message to the downcast. To all those poor souls rife with the sorrow of defeat. A secret, gleaned from suffering. An oasis in an endless desert. To make light the heart and steady the soul. For I have battled and learned and now I see. It is not the fault which marks the man, but that which follows.

How wretched we must appear. How weak and frail, shunning the call of destiny because we fear to fail. But I have found rest in wisdom and peace in truth. Man is not great for a blameless life; his nobility stems not from perfect form. No, the nobility of man has its roots in thorns. We are not heavenly messengers. Great might nor enlightened mind do we possess, but the spark of creation and the power of will. Even the angels fall and lose their flight, but the righteous man, though he plummet seven times, shall ascend again. For in His mercy, He hid redemption in our faults and wings in our fall.

Thus is the state of the human condition. To try and to fail, and to try again. To stumble blindly ahead, into the dark, with such meager spark to light such narrow way. But it is not in great deed which man finds his measure, only the manner in which he breathes. For unto man, God's greatest gift was breath and according to its use shall we be condemned. And breath is like the wind. Destined ever to move, from place to place and state to state but this curse of change is man's great pleasure. From pains to grow and from tears to better. To be beaten and bent and broken by this life and yet to emerge stronger and wiser and braver in return. Man is not born with wings, those we have were earned. For it is only from brokenness which we can learn to be whole and only in our fall, which we can learn to fly.