I open wide and soak it in, the full moon just coming white and misty from behind the clouds, or hanging its enormous full-blazed orange…
“Don’t put that in your mouth, be nice to the dog, stop taking toys away from your sister, sit down please, what a great drawing you made.”
What I lack in a history of sexual sin I make up for in a thousand other ways, as named here. I am greatly in need of grace.
We have been walking through difficult things this summer. His words feel redemptive, protective, perfect to me.
I observe that in spite of our relational bumps, the overwhelming majority of us have people in our lives whom we can trust with our darkest stuff.
I have never seen a man’s back worn to shreds by a cruel whip, but I have seen crisscrossed lines of despair in the wrists of a friend.
The point of Christmas is that Christ entered. Here. He is the last person in the world to be upset with a mess, or rattled by the unforeseen. He is acquainted with grief.
I just purged my house, nesting, frenetically sorting through every closet, every drawer, to remove all that we don’t need. And now I am buying more.
Confession: When my phone rang at 5:44 Monday morning, I thought it was the alarm, and groggily I punched around on its face a few times until it finally stopped. That is how I sent a text template to Faith Builders Christian School (calling to inform parents of a two-hour delay), saying Sorry, I’m busy. […]