On the syllables of root words inherited from the fall./ In the history books you rewrote with your existence./ Story begins where we dare
I’m used to being let down. I’m used to looking at myself through the lens of other women, instead of resting in the promise that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. When I look at another woman, I must know and feel, that she too is fearfully and wonderfully made.
Hope looks like an unexpected welcome.
Do I accept the world in all of its fury, despair, and appetite without also accepting the tranquility, affection, and harmony that stands at my doorstep when I walk outside to breathe in its life? Do I receive all the life and grace God extends to me in my calloused palms?
Support is much more than what we can buy. We can no longer buy our way out of guilt. We can no longer place money where we should place boundaries. Support is showing up and assisting the mending of our clipped wings or the clipped wings of our family and friends.
The plastic bag gets caught on the spike
because we haven’t replaced what separates us
What happens next? I made so many encouraging connections at the Five Minute Friday retreat. I can’t wait to see how God continues to flourish our friendships. I’m truly blessed by knowing these woman. They are dear to my heart.
There is so much good in the world we don’t often see or hear about. When we showed up at the site at our neighborhood Wal-Mart, my eyes flooded and not one dry eye was present in our family vehicle. As we rounded the corner in the parking lot, water bottles, water jugs, teddy bears, roses, and crosses all beautifully adorned the space we now found ourselves in.