In due time, I stepped back into my childhood church and that very day was introduced to a man that would go on to be my surrogate father and officiate over my wedding. This man would connect the dots from my heart to God’s and remind me that my ransom was paid in blood so greatly was I loved. I would come to understand that my value wasn’t tied to a scale and more importantly that there was a place for me in the Kingdom.
The alliteration was on point throughout the book. I didn’t find any tired cliches and although there was nothing fantastical about the book, it ballooned my imagination. None of the animals spoke, neither were they made up, but I had a fun time imagining a piggie giving me and my daughter great big squeezes.
Husband and I lay, backs on the bed staring at the ceiling, no kids at home. Finally, time alone. How would we spend this time? Would it be as all the times before? Pretending we weren’t hurt? Hovering surface level?
And while I wait to be released from my own struggles, Still Waiting drives hope into my life. It takes me by the hand and says, me too. This is what it is to wait well.
These things mark a fresh willingness to seek out new beginnings. They are proof of an understanding that it’s not too late to change, to rediscover truth, to try something new.
I am rising, and that is the miracle.
When I imagined this series, I wanted it to touch people in a way that offered hope in the treacherous terrain we’re navigating right now.
Here is what I found monumentally beautiful in 21 days while I remained unplugged. Grab your cup of joe. Walk with me.