Sometimes in the funky seasons, when things seem quiet and lonely, we have to go back to rest on what has already been spoken; what has already been proven. When the quiet aches of our hearts ring so loudly in our ears and it's hard to hear beyond the noise. When we find ourselves empty and unsure of which way to move or if we want to move at all. When we can come to the end of ourselves and vain searches to fill the voids and can open our hands that are scarred and bleeding from gripping tightly to memories of yesterday for fear of losing them all together. When we can look up to see the ones that we love that are here, rather than withholding love because we are busy looking down at these hand...