A small flame

A small flame

Dancing Lessons


Today a friend asks me a question and, to answer her, I slog back through old memory-fields and find that they are still full of land mines. I find myself too - I thought I had healed enough, but - I find myself still bleeding in that field.

My chest gets tight and I pull hard to get a breath. And, when I cut my finger while I'm making lunch, I cry out because it hurts . . . and I keep crying tears from deep inside because it
all still hurts so, so much.

So, when I find this post from a sweet, raw-honest mama half-way around the world, I sigh. I know the God-hug! I can feel His arms around me through her words.

'Running a marathon for a teaspoon of water is no match at all for just sitting with a cup beside Niagra Falls.'

And I am so deeply grateful, no matter how hard life is some days, that I am just a cup beside the Niagra-Falls-torrent of my Abba's grace.

Walking through a mine-field of your own right now?

Please take a minute and read the rest of her words - and His - here.

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