Matthew 15:18-28 “The words you speak come from the heart . . .” Then Jesus left Galilee and went north to the region of Tyre and Sidon. A Gentile woman who lived there came to him, pleading, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David! For my daughter is possessed by a demon that torments her severely. But Jesus gave her no reply, not even a word. Then his disciples urged him to send her away. “Tell her to go away,” they said. She is bothering us with all her begging . . . “Dear woman,” Jesus said to her, “your faith is great. Your request is granted.” And her daughter was instantly healed.

Silence is powerful. In this case, when Jesus stayed quiet for a while, the hearts of the disciples were revealed. Jesus had just been teaching that what is inside comes out through what we say. Master teacher that he was, he used this real-life incident to vividly illustrate his point. “She is bothering us; send her away,” the disciples said. Not, “Oh, this poor girl. Her mother loves her so much. How can we help her?” In what way were they more righteous than the Pharisees Jesus had just criticized for not caring for their aging parents?

The disciples still had not learned compassion, the heart of Jesus’ ministry, the ministry they were apprenticed to learn (see Matthew 9:36, 14:14, 15:3, 15:32). They still hadn’t captured Jesus’ vision for the nations, not just for the Jewish people. They still hadn’t internalized the kind of love that compelled Jesus, in deep grief following the death of his cousin John, to pour himself out for the people who thronged him. “Send them away,” the disciples had said on that occasion as well–and would do again in chapter 19, when the children bothered them.

By being quiet and waiting to see how they would respond, Jesus let the disciples implicate themselves. So much more powerful than a lecture or confrontation! Matthew doesn’t give us the debrief on this story, but can you imagine the conversation after the woman left, not rejected but rejoicing?

So, I have a challenge for you and for myself: Notice what happens in the quiet spaces, when the avalanche of words stops. And write a comment. Tell us what you see.

Be still and know that I am God! I will be honored in every nation. I will be honored throughout the world. (Psalm 46:10)

Psalm 116:1 I love the Lord, because He has heard the voice of my supplications, because He has inclined His ear to me whenever I called upon Him. 

But aren’t two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from Your
Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows. Matthew 10: 29-31

…This feels a little silly but I know it’s not…

I’ve been missing the ring my parents gave me for my 16th birthday for several months—my birthstone offset by two small diamonds, a pretty little thing.  It’s been gone since at least January, maybe longer!!! 8 months or more!!! I felt REALLY BAD that I’d lost it, really lost it, after nearly 30 years of having and enjoying it.   I turned my bedroom and house inside out looking for it while giving my house a good cleaning in May.  Nothing.  I thought it was lost, really lost.  I prayed to God to let it re-appear somehow, or to let me know if it was gone forever. My impression from my prayers was that it was gone forever. I was a little sad, but what could I do? I gave up looking, with this sick, sad feeling in the pit of my stomach, added onto the rest of this ache from all this pandemic.

Last night, I was looking for some wrapping paper in a plastic bin under my bed where I keep the wrapping paper.  When I pushed the bin back, there it was!!!  I literally gasped in delight and wonder, thankfulness and awe.  Poor ring must’ve been trapped under the groove in the plastic storage bin somehow for the last 8+ months!!!   EVEN THOUGH I had moved my bed and those bins…TWICE!!!  I’ve prayed for other things like this before, and each time I ‘find’ something, I think God decides to give whatever it is back to me, to bless me and to let me know that He cares about the things (and people!) I care about!

This time though, I was more deeply touched than usual, because this ring has such sentimentality to me being a gift from my parents for my sweet 16, and because it had been missing for so long, and because I had basically given up that I would find it.  So I have this lingering, overwhelming, deep sense that I am deeply Loved, that God MADE my ring re-appear to tangibly show how much He cares for me and the things I care about, to encourage me, and to give me Hope.

God is good (and not just because He returned my ring to me!).  He delights in all of us, and loves us very much, even so much as to return things (and people) to us that we’ve lost.

Here is the refrain that followed in my heart last night!

God is so good,

God is so good,

God is so good,

He’s so good, to me.

He answers prayer.

He answers prayer.

He answers prayer,

He’s so good, to me.  (Velma A Ledin)

And,

God answers prayer in the morning,
God answers prayer at noon.

God answers prayer in the evening,

To keep your heart in tune.  (John W Peterson Co)

There was also this swell of verses which came to mind around this encounter with God…I hope they give you hope to not give up, even on the smallest thing, even on the deepest hope or dream or healing of that ache or relationship or lost person in your life.  May you be deeply blessed by reading these verses:

The Lord, your God is in your midst, a warrior who gives victory (“the Mighty Warrior who saves”—NIV); He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will renew you in His love; He will exult over you with loud singing as on a day of festival.  Zephaniah 3: 17 NRSV

The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to keep still.  Exodus 14:14 NRSV

Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it?  When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me for I have found the coin that I had lost.’  Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.  Luke 15:8-10 (sandwiched in between the parable of the lost sheep and the parable of the prodigal son <3)

Here is My Servant, whom I uphold, My Chosen, in whom My Soul delights; I have put My Spirit upon Him; He will bring forth justice to the nations.  He will not cry or lift up His voice, or make it heard in the street; a bruised reed He will not break, and a dimly burning wick He will not quench; He will faithfully bring forth justice…I am the Lord, that is My Name; My Glory I give to no other, nor My Praise to idols.  See the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare, before they spring forth, I tell you of them.  Isaiah 42:1-3, 8-9

Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God.  And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.  For while we were still weak, at the right time, Christ died for the ungodly.  Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die.  But God proves His love for us in this, that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  Romans 5:1-8

So we do not lose heart.  Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day.  For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.  2 Cor 4: 16-18

You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in Your bottle.  Are they not in Your record?  Psalm 56

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?  Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from Your Father.  And even the hairs of your head are all counted.  So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.  Matthew 10: 29-31

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear.  Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?  Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not of more value that they?  And can any of you, by worrying, add a single hour to the span of your life?  And why do you worry about clothing?  Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all His glory was not clothed like one of these.  But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you—you of little faith?  Therefore do not worry, saying, “What will we eat?” or “What will we drink?” or “What will we wear?”  For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.  But strive first of the kingdom of God, and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own.  Today’s trouble is enough for today.  Matthew 6:25-34

…There is more, but that will have to do for now.

Proverbs 31:8-9 Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves; ensure justice for those being crushed. Yes, speak up for the poor and helpless, and see that they get justice.

A few days ago, I commented to Dave, “No one seems to be talking about the fact that this month, on the 18^th, we celebrate 100 years since the passage of the 19^th Amendment, giving women the right to vote. With all the concern about voting, why isn’t anyone referencing that?” Since then, I’ve been glad to see and hear some media focus on that historic accomplishment.

Think about it, though: Only one hundred years since women were granted the vote! I find that hard to believe. Since I have always had that right, I take it for granted. My grandmother was 19 in 1920. I wish I had known enough to ask her what the passage of the 19^th amendment meant to her.

But even more unbelievable for me, since I didn’t grow up in the U.S. and learned a truncated version of American history, has been finding out that the great majority of Black Americans, including, of course, Black women, have only been able to vote since President Lyndon Johnson passed the Voting Rights Act in 1965.

1965! Within my lifetime, in this “land of the free,” citizens were not permitted to vote! I have been on a steep learning curve about this and so much else I didn’t know or didn’t understand about the story of this country.

I have heard these proverbs about speaking up applied to unborn babies, and surely that is legitimate. But I don’t remember hearing them applied to people of color. Tragically, unconscionably, it has often been people who claim the name of Christ who, rather than ensuring justice, have been the ones doing the crushing—in direct opposition to Jesus, who “will not crush the weakest reed” (see post on Aug. 8). Read Jemar Tisby’s The Color of Compromise, for a start.

Women and men, each of us who has a voice: Let’s use the power of our voices not just at the polls, critically important as that is, but in our homes, our communities, our churches, to speak up when we see injustice. Our voices don’t have to be loud or raucous to make a difference, especially if what we say is matched by what we do. God loves gentleness and kindness—that’s what I find so appealing about John Woolman’s way of protesting. But our voices joined together in persistent, confident love can bring change that will gladden God’s heart.

This is what the Lord says:

“Don’t let the wise boast in their wisdom, or the powerful boast in their power, or the rich boast in their riches. But those who wish to boast should boast in this alone: that they truly know me and understand that I am the Lord who demonstrates unfailing love and who brings justice and righteousness to the earth, and that I delight in these things.”

I, the Lord, have spoken! (Jeremiah 9:23-24)

Matthew 14:22-27 Immediately after this [feeding five thousand +], Jesus insisted that his disciples get back into the boat and cross to the other side of the lake, while he sent the people home. After sending them home, he went up into the hills by himself to pray. Night fell while he was there alone. Meanwhile, the disciples were in trouble far away from land, for a strong wind had risen, and they were fighting heavy waves. About three o’clock in the morning Jesus came toward them, walking on the water. When the disciples saw him walking on the water, they were terrified. In their fear, they cried out, “It’s a ghost!” But Jesus spoke to them at once. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Take courage, I am here!”

We all need these words, perhaps several times a day. Yes?

Alex, the youth pastor at our church, gave a wonderful sermon Sunday based on this passage, including the part about Peter walking on the water. Alex left us with unforgettable images:

The mountain, where heaven meets earth:

where we gain our perspective and strength through prayer,

where we can grieve, as Jesus grieved for his cousin John

The sea, where we encounter powers beyond our control:

              everything that rocks our boat

              But for Jesus, walking on the sea is the quickest way to reach us.

The boat, where we live our lives

              often full of frustration and fear

Lord, how are you coming near to me through the chaos of these days? Let me feel the touch of your hand. Come be with me in my boat and bring peace.

You can listen to the whole sermon here, 22:40-39:49—a wonderful use of 17 minutes!

Matthew 12:15-21 Jesus healed all the sick among them, but he warned them not to reveal who he was. This fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah concerning him: “Look at my Servant, whom I have chosen. He is my Beloved, who pleases me. I will put my Spirit upon him, and he will proclaim justice to the nations. He will not fight or shout or raise his voice in public. He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle. Finally he will cause justice to be victorious. And his name will be the hope of all the world.”

Have you read Speaker for the Dead by Orson Scott Card? It’s part of the Ender’s Game series but takes place about three thousand years later. The Speaker is charged with understanding and expressing the mystery and truth of a person’s life.

It’s not easy work, but our pastor is particularly good at doing this and is having multiple opportunities to use this gift, three funerals in three weeks. After dear 97-year-old Alicia’s service Thursday, I was able to watch by live stream the funeral of our son-in-law Cesar’s 50-year-old Aunt Rosina in southern Brazil. In both cases, I felt I knew the people better in some ways in death than I had in life. I expect that will be true for Jane too, next week—my friend whom I wrote about in the last post, whose service will be next Friday.

This celebration of a person’s unique impact on the world always comforts me. Doing it well honors the significance of the person to those who knew him or her.

So when I read this Scripture this morning, it struck me that by the time Matthew wrote his Gospel, he was free from the restriction not to reveal who Jesus was, and chose this passage from Isaiah to crystallize for his readers (including us!) the essence of Jesus’ character. Read it over a few times. Let its loveliness sink into your heart. Are you encouraged? I am! Even more when I look back to his baptism in Matthew 3:17, and forward to his transfiguration in Matthew 17:5, two other times God the Father calls Jesus his Beloved, and the Spirit bears witness and empowers his work. A beautiful partnership.

He is so gentle. Yet his intent to bring justice will one day be successful. Because he not only died, he came back to life. Take hope!

Matthew 9:10-13 Matthew invited Jesus and his disciples to his home as dinner guests, along with many tax collectors and other disreputable sinners. But when the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with such scum?” When Jesus heard this, he said, “Healthy people don’t need a doctor—sick people do.” Then he added, “Now go and learn the meaning of this Scripture: ‘I want you to show mercy, not offer sacrifices.’ For I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners.”

Jesus quoted to the Pharisees the Greek version of Hosea 6:6. Perhaps he thought the first part of the verse would invoke for his hearers the next phrase: “I want you to know me more than I want burnt offerings.” Know my heart of mercy. Do as I do—but it starts in your heart with a change of attitude, a change of paradigm. A different, more open way of seeing the world. Not less love for God, but more.

In response to my post about wondering how I will get through the next few weeks of political mutual destruction, my sister-in-law Elaine (see Art and Scripture on FB) recommended a very helpful little book, Why Don’t They Get It? Overcoming Bias in Others (and Yourself) by Brian McLaren—see https://brianmclaren.net/store/–scroll down just a bit.

It’s an easy read, in big print. But maybe not so easy to apply . . . I would be delighted to know your thoughts!

I’m adding to my list of suggestions for these next weeks:

*Show mercy.

*Work to overcome biases.

2 Corinthians 2:14-15 But thank God! He has made us his captives and continues to lead us along in Christ’s triumphal procession. Now he uses us to spread the knowledge of Christ everywhere, like a sweet perfume. Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God.

I had met Jane at church—enough to greet her. But I got to know her when I was asked to regularly pick her up for church once a month. She was a little hard of hearing, but her mind was sharp as a tack, and we had fascinating conversations going to and from church. She told me about the books she was reading, about events and people in the retirement center where she lived, about her own story—the jobs she had held, her decision not to pursue a doctorate at Pitt though she was invited by professors there to do so, her choice to worship at Ascension, her siblings and their families, her decision not to marry . . .

Jane was up to the minute with current events and shared some of her concerns with me. Once we drove by a lot where a huge old apartment building had been razed. She said, “Wouldn’t that be the perfect spot to build the new Amazon distribution center? I’m quite sure Amazon will choose Pittsburgh.” (They didn’t.) I was impressed that Jane was aware of the competition for this potential source of jobs and was able to engage with me in a discussion of the pros and cons of Amazon coming to our city.

When Karis, All I See Is Grace was published, I bought a copy for Jane. But she greeted me asking for an autograph–in the hard copy of the book she somehow obtained on her own!

Jane loved our family. She followed Dave’s ministry in detail, and always had pertinent questions to ask him. She loved nothing more than a visit from me at her retirement center—if I brought Caleb along. She was thrilled when both our daughters were pregnant at the same time.

Then she suffered a massive heart attack. When I went to visit her in the hospital, she almost leaped out of bed in her excitement. “Debbie, you’ll never guess who was just here! Mark Stevenson! Such a nice young man.” (Mark is a pastor at our church. I think he’s about my age, so perhaps Jane thought of me as young also?!) Jane proceeded to talk to me nonstop for over an hour. She would have kept going, I think, had I not needed to excuse myself.

After that heart attack, Jane was moved from her lovely apartment in the retirement center to a nursing home, where she shared a hospital-style room with a woman who was not happy she was there. In fact, hostile might not be too strong a word. When I looked at Jane, startled at what came out of the woman’s mouth, Jane laughed and said, with a little chuckle, “Perhaps in time I’ll win her over, poor dear.” She set aside the book in her lap—one of the classics; I’m sad that I don’t remember which one—to show me with delight cards and photos she had received from friends and family. When I was ready to leave, Jane said, “Don’t worry about me. I am content. Contentment is a choice. I have chosen to be content.”

Those words have rung in my mind and heart often since that day a few months ago. I didn’t imagine that would be the last time I would see Jane. But then COVID hit. We kept in touch through notes on cards, and Jane sent cards to each of my daughters when their babies were born (she had kept track of their due dates).

July 26, Jane’s 95^th birthday, her COVID test came back positive. Last night God took her Home. She has left me with the scent of Christ-like fragrance, rising up to God.  And the reminder that contentment is a choice.

Matthew 5: 43-48 You have heard the law that says, “Love your neighbor” and hate your enemy. But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven. For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike. If you love only those who love you, what reward is there for that? Even corrupt tax collectors do that much. If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else? Even pagans do that. But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that,” my fortune cookie tells me.

If you’re like me, you dread the next weeks, when we’ll be flooded even more than the pathetic “normal” by politicians tearing each other apart. What to do—an extended screens fast? Focus that time instead on proactive love for neighbors and friends?

Suggestions welcome! Meanwhile, enjoy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-RG0Xh42zs

Genesis 4:8-10 One day Cain suggested to his brother, “Let’s go out into the fields.” And while they were in the field, Cain attacked his brother, Abel, and killed him. Afterward the Lord asked Cain, “Where is your brother? Where is Abel?” “I don’t know,” Cain responded. “Am I my brother’s guardian?” But the Lord said, “What have you done? Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground!”

I “attended” two funerals yesterday, both virtually. Both deaths were from cancer. Both men were celebrated for the choices they made in life to serve not only themselves but other people, at significant cost. Both used the gifts God gave them to make a difference in the lives of the people in their spheres of influence. One was a dearly loved member of our church. We miss you, Bob.

The other, John Lewis, was elected to Congress in 1986 and re-elected sixteen times. Called the “conscience of Congress,” he served as a representative from Georgia until he died on July 17. I heard part of his funeral on the radio on Monday and watched it on YouTube with Dave last night. You can start at 1:06 to hear Rep. Lewis challenge us in his own words.

Rep. Lewis was one of the original 13 Freedom Riders. He was the last surviving organizer of the 1963 March on Washington, the youngest speaker at that event which was the setting for Martin Luther King Junior’s “I have a dream” speech. An ordained Baptist minister committed to nonviolent change, Rep. Lewis lay down his life over and over again for the sake of achieving MLK’s vision for the “beloved community” (see https://www.gcorr.org/25-traits-of-the-beloved-community-2/).

Rep. Lewis’s story sounds very much like Paul’s in 1 Corinthians 4 and 2 Corinthians 6 and 11. He was beaten repeatedly, left for dead, imprisoned. By 1963, he had been arrested 24 times. His skull was fractured by police when he stopped to pray during his crossing of the bridge in Selma, AL in 1965, scars he bore the rest of his life. He was arrested in 2006, 2009, and 2013 for protesting peacefully. Yet he held tenaciously to his belief in nonviolence and the possibility of reconciliation.

I hope this is enough to pique your interest in learning more about this remarkable man, who has now joined the company of saints around the throne of God. A powerful part of his memorial service in the Capitol Rotunda was the special music offered by Dr. Wintley Phipps. For me, it was even more meaningful because the week before, Dave called my attention to this video, which gives background I wasn’t aware of before about the hymn Amazing Grace:

You may not agree with all of Rep. Lewis’s political positions—I don’t—but there is no doubt his life says to us, “Yes. I am my brother’s guardian. Like you, Lord—his blood cries out to me from the ground.” And watching people worship as Dr. Phipps sang in the Capitol Rotunda touched me deeply.

Psalm 36:7-9 How precious is your unfailing love, O God! All humanity finds shelter in the shadow of your wings. . . For you are the fountain of life, the light by which we see.

I had an awful dream last night. More about that later, and the glimmer of light God is giving me through it.

Friday evening, we had a several-hour blackout due to a storm. Suddenly it was obvious how much we depend on electrical power, not just to see what’s around us, and do things we want to do, but to communicate with other people. Dave missed a meeting with leaders from several countries. I missed some online connecting I planned to do while he was on that call.

But instead, we snuggled on the couch in the light of a single candle, enjoying an unexpected quiet space just for “us.”

One topic of conversation was how much we take for granted electrical power, clean water, food, etc. etc. Our friends in Venezuela are delighted when they have power for a few hours.

Another topic was a video Dave had just filmed for me, and whether I would find the courage to post it on Facebook. (I did it the next morning; you can see our best-of-seven-attempts on the All I See Is Grace page.) I needed courage because “marketing” is hard for me. My family and close friends have heard me bewail that all too often.

A tough reality for people like me: authors must sell their own books. This is true whether we publish traditionally or independently, in this market where book publishers are fighting to survive. After giving it my best in the few months after Karis, All I See Is Grace was published, I breathed a sigh of relief, said “Whew, that’s over,” and settled into my next writing project.

Last month, though, my spiritual director challenged that view, suggesting this moment, now, when not just the U.S. but the whole world is caught in pandemic and economic upheaval, when we’re feeling the stress of isolation and disruption of our routines and expectations, when we can’t visit our loved ones in nursing homes or hospitals or mourn them properly when they die, when we as a nation are grasping for new understanding of the realities of entrenched systemic racism, when “fake news” and “real news” can be hard to tell apart, when gracious public discourse seems to have all but disappeared . . . this moment is perhaps the moment Karis’s words of hope and joy and love across boundaries can encourage us to turn toward God in new and deeper ways to find the light we need.

If any of this resonates with you, you can help me by sharing the video on your own FB page, and by liking the All I See is Grace page. Even by gifting the book to people who are struggling right now.

We made the video deliberately without “God language,” hoping it could merit a viewing by a wider audience. The book, though, takes people straight to God.

All this makes sense in my mind. Ever since I posted the video, though, I’ve been on the edge of tears. And last night I had this horrible dream.

I dreamed an eighteen-wheeler pulled up in front of our house and dumped a load of large, sharp rocks on our front lawn. Like monster gravel. I ran out waving my arms in protest, yelling to say they had the wrong house, when I saw a caravan of trucks pulling up. None of my arm-waving or yelling or window-pounding made any difference. One by one the trucks pulled up and dumped their loads, until I was forced by the growing mountain of stuff back into my house. Dirt. Garbage of all kinds. Old appliances. Squashed this and rusty that. By the time they were all gone, I couldn’t see out of our windows or open the door. I was stuck inside, trapped by an avalanche of refuse.

It’s as vivid to me now in the retelling as it was in the dreaming.

Lord, what on earth . . . ?

“It’s your fear,” came his whisper. “Your fear of reliving the grief. The losses. The exhaustion. The huge emotional cost of writing the Karis book. Your fear of not having learned all you needed to learn, of not having much to contribute, of letting Karis down by not representing her life adequately. Your feelings of insecurity in U.S. culture and with technology, of not knowing the right things to do or say. Your fears of not using well the limited time you have left in the world, however long that may be. All these messy, rusty, broken-down old fears.”

“It’s not really about the marketing, then?”

“No. You’ll have a totally different experience with sharing Horse Thief 1898. The Karis book pulls so much emotion back to the surface that it’s hard for you to maintain perspective. There’s so much of you in that book, in her story, that you feel vulnerable, out of control, unable to defend yourself. Like in the dream.”

“Oh.”

Believe it or not, this truly is a ray of light into my darkness. Because I am delighted with the Horse Thief story and would love to share it with you! And I don’t want that to be as hard as I find talking about Karis, All I See Is Grace. A long post, to say thank you to God who is walking this journey with me, and to you, who are doing so as well. Thank you.

Maybe I do need a good cry to help regain my equilibrium. Maybe in your own circumstances, you do too?