Insert chill ambiance set to a playlist of lyric-less hip hop songs, nearby an arsenal of books and a revolving wish list of required reading. In two hours, I will begin to ready myself for a one hour commute to my full-time job. I will listen to podcasts the entire drive there. I will park my car and jot down, in my bullet journal, all ideas that are still lingering around able to be captured on paper.
That faith could be reimagined in America as part of the solution rather than part of the problem, is something I feel a deep desire to understand given our current president and his administration. This is what Michael Wear seeks to inform his readers of in Reclaiming Hope: Lessons Learned in the Obama White House About the Future of Faith in America.
Just like this hillside, my soul has been scorched by fiery trials. For many years, I waded through the thick black smoke as my soul was left desolate, dry, and gasping for air. All signs of life were stripped away, leaving only a remnant of skeletal remains. I felt forsaken and forgotten. It was hard to imagine my soul flourishing again.
It is said some don’t grow into their name
it fits like a pair of medias
two sizes to small
I heard God whispering to my heart when I read that story. You like to bake…what is his favorite dessert? I remembered how much he liked cheesecake. Working up my nerve, I invited him over for supper on a Sunday night. He agreed, and I prepared our home, a special meal, and my heart for his arrival.
Never an empty soul
Because he made it so.
I, like Pontius Pilate, have a change of heart when presented with the reckoning.
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?