Friends, I’m over at Alice Williams’s place with an Ode To The Broken Hearted. Come by.
In my tribe, I’m the left leaning, Jesus loving, tree hugging hippy-who-wears-a-bra, poet against systemic oppression friend. I stick out in my tribe but come hell or high-water, I can always run to and run for the fab three: Lonna, Kathleen, and Arlene.
Friends, as I type these words today, any person would say that there is no hope left for me. But, Praise be unto God that my life is not defined by my current situation.
…from deep down dig it out phrases – shrapnel caught in the ligaments of my new place, this new place I call grace.
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.
This is how you find me/open hands, gathering/vestiges of paper-thin soul/visible deep creases/I used to be a paper crane.
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.