From Crossroads by William Paul Young:
If freedom is an incremental process, so, too, is the encroachment of evil. Small adjustments to truth and minor justifications over time build an edifice that would never have been predicted. The soul is magnificent but fragile; any betrayals and lies embedded in its walls and foundations shift in construction in directions unimagined.
The mystery of every human soul is profound. He or she was birthed into an explosion of life, an inner expanding universe coalescing in its own internal solar system and galaxies with unimagined symmetry and elegance. Places of substance entered the dance of competing gravitational forces, each adding their own rotation to the mix, shifting the members of the cosmic waltz and spreading them in a constant give and take of space, time and music. Along this road, pain, and loss came crushing; causing this depth to lose its profoundly delicate structure and begin to collapse in on itself.
The deterioration rippled on the surface in self-protective fear, selfish ambition, and the hardening of anything tender. What had been a living entity, a heart of flesh, became stone; a hardened rock lived in the husk, the shell of the body. Once the form was an expression of inward wonder and magnificence. Now it must find its way with no support, a façade in search of a heart, a dying star ravenous in its own emptiness. Pain, loss, and abandonment are hard taskmasters, but combined they become an almost unendurable desolation.
What to do?
Reach to the One who is more than you can begin to imagine, and who anchors your deepest longings; the One whose love for you, you are not able to change, and the One you are able to trust. Reach to the One who is the voice in the wind, the smile in the moon, and the refreshing life that is water. Reach to the One who is the Weaver, the One who will weave all your colors into a rich tapestry.