Sun dumping golden warmth on snow dripping drifts.
Son drenching joy cascading water on parched souls.
Beauty dancing crazy, pony-tailed flight in the kitchen.
Her little brother laughing all up in his eyes.
Secret handshakes.
Target tour with a brown eyed boy.
Finding a stuffed animal in the cart when he is almost 16.
And a fuzzy blankie.
Oh. And a giant bean bag chair. (I guess he didn't think I'd notice?)
That same boy coming home with a fuzzy blankie and a big, big smile.
The Shoulders comforting math-induced, tear stained, school haters.
The two becoming one flesh.
Learning to juggle.
The Psalms, always, the Psalms.
My LPG and his love down through the years. Thank you.
Just someone named WendyJohn.
Overcoming impossible pain.
Doing the right thing.
Elbows in the Body.
Pushes.
Arms that circle right 'round.
Her letters to the wounded #2 (www.aholyexperience.com)
Freckles on the dearest of faces.
Prayers that bring him right close.
A God Who makes you cry because He wants to set you free.
Wind in my wings,
Bernadette
Oh, Friend. What joy, what hope to read your list of Eucharisteo in the hard days. I've *missed* your voice these last months and you are watering my soul with sweet hope. And that letter to the wounded #2? Yes. It made me weep, too.
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