My dear Rue. I’ve read this one through several times. I don’t really have words to comment on it, because this story feels so fitting that it’s sacred. But as the tears dripped down my cheeks again this morning (tears for this lost boy still surprise me by welling up over and again) I was so grateful for the God of story…who gives us story as a flickering promise that it all matters and that though the moonless sky writhes in shadows bigger than any of us, His love is greater still. These words are a kind of balm for my heart, in a bittersweet ache. It’s beautiful, Rue. Thank you 🤍
Oh, dearest Jo. I found such tearful sweetness in knowing your heart weighs the same as mine--with both the same heaviness and the same, odd lightness that comes by the grace of our Father. Your words hugged a little part of my soul too. I am so grateful that, although there must be sorrows for now, He allows for us to share in their taste through bittersweet fellowship. Love you ever so dearly, Jo. 🤎
My dear Rue. I’ve read this one through several times. I don’t really have words to comment on it, because this story feels so fitting that it’s sacred. But as the tears dripped down my cheeks again this morning (tears for this lost boy still surprise me by welling up over and again) I was so grateful for the God of story…who gives us story as a flickering promise that it all matters and that though the moonless sky writhes in shadows bigger than any of us, His love is greater still. These words are a kind of balm for my heart, in a bittersweet ache. It’s beautiful, Rue. Thank you 🤍
Oh, dearest Jo. I found such tearful sweetness in knowing your heart weighs the same as mine--with both the same heaviness and the same, odd lightness that comes by the grace of our Father. Your words hugged a little part of my soul too. I am so grateful that, although there must be sorrows for now, He allows for us to share in their taste through bittersweet fellowship. Love you ever so dearly, Jo. 🤎
♥️