Maybe good luck and bad luck are all mixed up. Zen Shorts
Maybe the holes in our canvas are the windows to God. One Thousand Gifts
I imagine great strength. To have that which I do not. To see visions I will never behold. To feel emotions shoved down deep inside.
Many mornings, afternoons, and evenings I have lost words and only my ears could hear and the devil could plant fears. Days I felt. In the horror of dreaded death and pain, I felt.
A path I never chose, one I never signed up for has lead me here. To be more true to myself than I could ever be without It. Wonderful bridges, made of gold, have been built over both treacherous and drought infected waters.
Am I going to see the holes as windows or as snags in a perfect backdrop? Can I possibly look at my disabled child and see God? Will the tests in my relationships reflect light or darkness? Will I dare approach and decide? A leap of faith.
How, God, can I, like so many others, deplete my soul of the numbness caused by the burn of pain and fear? How can I find the strength to massage my soul time and time again, from now until my death?
I will return whole; to a perfect canvas in which I will no longer have to look through.
(One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp - A must read)