Lord,
These notes are a weekly occurrence it seems. The fog comes and goes. Half the time I don’t know what day it is anymore. I have to be intentional about being in the here and now. Comparison really is my thief of joy these days. I question if I’m making you proud. Making you glad to call me Yours. I got a package the other day filled with cards, and one specifically got my attention. Let me say, it hit a nerve. It said something like the struggle builds strength. Well, four words have stuck in my crawl. It’s something I needed to hear, see and read. It’s been the season of struggle. The least I can hope for is strength. Strength for what I don’t know yet. I’m in a season of blissful ignorance. I don’t know how else to put it honestly. So as I strap weights on my ankles, Lord, lift the weight off my heart. It feels like I could make a book off my letters to you.
Love yourself and one another
from R's rue https://ift.tt/17sBNP8
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