“I have not forgotten you. I did not lead you into the wilderness to die.”
A little piece of our story made it to the cover of the New York Times this week . . .
That little piece is a drug called Suboxone.
Stick figure silhouettes cling to dangling color that remains . . . dropping one by one . . . leaving them exposed, leafless . . . .
The woods betray us. We are vulnerable.
Read the full post at her.meneutics.
. . . I don’t mean just the big THANKS. I mean the little thanks — for everyday things. The things that we have to dig into to find a reason for being grateful. It’s a whole lot harder than it appears.
This forum is so immediate. Not like the “old days” when reaching an audience of more than a couple of friends was a very big deal and took time.
But over the past ten years, God has been peeling. Peeling and peeling the layers of me. And I am confronted often by who I think I should be and who I am.
Love your children by filtering what you post.
Especially your teenagers.
Sometimes, we forget, in the middle of them being so grown up, they aren’t fully grown-up . . . with the tough shells we who are really grown up have.
. . . as I speak aloud these inherited loves, I realize the most important things I’ve learned from my mom never came from an actual lesson at all but from a life . . . and that the learning is still going on today.