Sunday, February 24, 2013


It's out before I can stop it.  Words that should never have been spoken in that setting...words ill timed and tumbling out like a string of bad pearls that I couldn't pull back.  Wretched tongue! 

Her father died.  He left a note.

And I?  I asked her if she would be my trustee.

Can you imagine?

I asked her,  "If I should go and they not know, would you make sure that each one of the children knows that I loved them?  That I was broken, but that I loved them?  Would you make them understand somehow?  Can I trust you to accomplish this for me?"

How can I forget her face?

Who will be her father's trustee, and how can we give what wasn't given to us?

I lose my life in the simple beauty of her response.


We sit silent and lost, yet finding this new and crazy way of doing things together.  Groping our way out of the darkness and into the light.

Hand in hand,



  1. My dear friend. It's such joy to read your words again after all this time. I've *missed* you. Like crazy. Your writing here always speaks to my heart and lets me catch a glimpse of your soul. And I know that the writing eases your heart, too, so I am grateful you are finding words again, at least for a time. This line is the one I can't stop thinking about: "how can we give what wasn't given to us?" I think about this all the time, in regard to relationships and parenting and walking with God--how we don't always inherit the best examples and how we have to make our own way, break free from what we're born into. It's hard and scary and it feels impossible. Yes. But somehow He takes what we don't have and makes something beautiful out of our lives, out of us. He is making something beautiful out of you, Beloved. You *are* beautiful.

  2. He works miraculous beauty in us. Let the redeemed of the Lord say so. Girl....I SAY SO!