My ride was not unique. It wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t fun. It was basically like me–comfortable, stable, and safe. No surprises. Reliable. Always there, waiting to be needed.
I release you,
my beautiful and terrible fear.
I release you.
my beloved and hated twin,
II don’t know you as myself. . . .
I take myself back, fear.
You are not
my shadow any longer.
How do I hear God’s “still small voice” when I am scared of silence? I despaired thinking that to hear God I had to get comfortable with silence. It seemed impossible. A […]
OR How I Slew the Nostalgia Dragon with Joy Sparking All Around! By Susan Lilley For at least four years, I have planned to “clean out my closet” during the summer. The […]
by Suzannah Gilman I have traveled across mountain and desert with my firstborn in the belly of a jet plane. I have driven him hundreds of miles more so we could […]