they shouldn't be sorry.
i want You to know that most days i trust You. i trust in You and Your time. (not my time.) i know i get antsy, throw tantrums and question to no end. but i do believe that You are preparing me for something. and i am okay with that.
there are times in my life when i hear nothing at all but my own thoughts. my own interjections. into the big-big-blue they spiral
and split into nothingness. into somethingness.
(makes me believe.)
makes me believe that life
is a love lesson.
i never did mind much - the power of prayer. or,
where it took me.
i sometimes wonder what my story is.
(why it reads the way it does.)
does God fold the tips of my pages?
hope to return some sunny day
when He's feeling lazy? a little sexy?
maybe laying on a divan with sweet peas nearby?
and tom said: you are enjoying that stoop.
i told him: that's where i find God.
he said: you're looking for God?
i told him : no. that's where i find God.
i realized i haven't communed with the One above of late. (not sure why really.) i miss that awareness. that connection. that heart-filled-up-feeling i get when i go beyond myself.
it's something to consider at least (my human nature and the nature of things).
as well, knowing that i am loved.
i am loved. and i need not be afraid.
i need not be afraid.
there is no bargaining with God. (i have been filling up fox-holed-prayer holes for far too long.) dirt is heavy. truth is indifferent. and i think i'm almost done.
come next spring, i might just plant something pretty.
life has a good one-to-one-two punch; something to jolt me into breathing right for a change.
i find it's not about having to be right. it's about being willing to not have to be.
beneath all the things i've ever done - redemption awaits.
of this, i am sure.