Secrets

His gaze was so soft that she would like to wrap herself with it.

It was not so much that he was shut out, but that she was trapped inside.

She headed for a wide flat rock on the creek's bank, her posture still demanding 'no trespassing' but no longer 'trespassers will be shot.

On the brink alone he stands with quick and eager feet. Jump across and run, boy, don’t worry what you’ll meet. For in the days before you, life will intervene With all the things you yearn to see and all that you have seen…. Don’t close your eyes and wonder what lies across the gap; There is no road before you; you cannot find the map. For with your heart you forge a way that angels fear to tread, And gather up your troubles for the day when you are dead, And gather up your troubles for the day when you are dead…. Run, boy, run. Run with all your might. The sunrise burns before you, and on your heels the night. And if the darkness lingers long, you’ll lose your soul’s own song; Yes, if the darkness lingers, you’ll lose your own soul’s song.

Life peels us like an onion and every layer is softer and sweeter.

everyone has different challenges, different needs and strengths. Choices have consequences, but I now think that, even in the pits and traps, the Lord can make a way through.

what is God? “He’s truth; He’s meaning. He’s my purpose and yours. With terrorists wiping people out, dealers hooking kids on meth and ecstasy, violence and cruelty; there’s still love, comfort, joy, and hope. That’s God. Without him, none of it makes sense.

We talk about normal, and for legal and practical reasons set a bar for expected societal norms. But can any of us really claim normality?” Rese

Life was fragile, and the shadows left behind touched those who came after. Hooves

The brain could go just about anywhere with anything.

Papa is restless in the Field. He cannot find the rhythm. He doesn’t know the step. His eye upon the horizon; his mind is in the world. His heart has left us already. His feet will follow.

Alert. Aware. Dreams and memories slip away. Thoughts tumble. Tangled. Confused. Sounds from my mouth are primal. What I want to say, what I need to say stays locked inside.

A meal is not something to get through. A meal is life.

So little I know in my innocence. Ideals, like pebbles in a stream wash away, wash away. Life makes no sense.

She had challenged his whole life plan—to find God’s will and do it— said he was fixated on finding the one thing God intended for him, when every moment was an opportunity. What if she was right? Could one choice be God’s will, and another as well? It might not be about finding the one right answer as much as knowing the heart of God and choosing from the possibilities.

C. S. Lewis put it, “We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.