In The Ways I Am Holy

I am not holy in the ways of angels or priests.

I am loved.
And not only that, but I am holy.

Not holy in the ways of angels or priests.
But holy, in the fact that these hands were shaped by billions of years of evolution.
That I was born from a mother, both the earth and the human I love today.
I am holy in the fact that I am made of millions of tiny organisms, and each one has a life, and each one has a purpose, and each one is made of everything and nothing at all.
Matter, space, and time do not make much sense to me.
But I know that I am of Earth and that I am of star stuff and other things larger than my life will ever be.

So yes, I am loved, and I am holy.
Holy in the way mountains and waterfalls and butterflies are holy.
And loved in the universe.
Loved gently and fiercely. Loved unconditionally. Loved freely. Loved in just the way I need to be.