today held a few of those.
harsh words written down, a send button pushed and cyber space held what i should have kept back.
there are friends who are sisters and sisters who are friends and love binds us close and in the midst of emotion run high, grace was freely given...
but that wound?
left by my own words?
oh.
one can begin to feel so small.
i remember the freedom i felt in coming to him when i did something stupid...the father who declared me, the married-in-one, his own.
when i didn't understand, or i felt confused, or i just needed guidance in knowing how to find that next step.
i found myself sifting through shelves, through boxes...searching for the bits of him we still have here.
wishing i could hear his voice, longing for the wisdom he would have shared so freely.
instead, i held in my hands one of the many volumes that had been cradled in his through the years.
placed the books of an earthly father right up next to the one of my Heavenly One and turned the pages and read.
the ache is still there...
i think sin is like that most times.
eats away at failed and miserable attempts at control gone awry.
but through the grace of my sister, the echo of a father, the way my Jesus restores...
today isn't a lost cause.
not ruined by what i said.
instead it is step marked by mercy that will journey with me into the next.
and i give thanks on this eighth day of this month that finds me here...even when days are marred and misunderstood.
