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{via pinterest} |
it's November. it's that transition month, that time when autumn and winter are warring for equal time on the Earth and the world can't make up its mind.
when the leaves are fading and falling. no snow to hide the awkward, ugly sticks that poke up from the ground where trees used to be.
grey skies more than sun. it's as if even the world grieves in confusion.
what am i now?
i write, sometimes collected and sometimes aimlessly, until i reach the end of the thirty days of frenzy, and then i sit back and stare at the masterpiece that i did not make, even though i tried so hard that i nearly broke.
but this year is different already.
but i'm warm here.
He's teaching me things
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{via pinterest} |
i'm learning to see words as a gift. not a frantic race to 50,000. this time to write, to pour out, is a gift that my King and November have joined together to give me as the most precious of presents.
i feel like a child, little hand clutching a pen while a larger Hand wraps around mine.
little one, see? write like this.
I've got you, dearheart.
i'm warm here in Him.
we're a team, He and i. writing this book together, Father and daughter.
oh, what a place to be.
{linking with Laura at The Wellspring. this precious playdate with me and Him}