A Doer of Hard and Holy Things

I was talking to Mama early this morning…

…and as I was talking with her, I ran across this:

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thanks, Mama…forever…for Your Love…

Thanks even more for sustaining me, and renewing my courage!

*Charissa draws a deep breath, sets her jaw, squares her shoulders and jumps back into the river!*

One Conversation

Haaayyyy…just in amazement this morning at the happy wonder of something so miraculous being so solidly common…like the very best ever hot stew after the very funnest ever walk in the crisp autumn morning on the very finest ever High Saturday of Fall just before the funnest ever slumber party.

Sometimes miracles are striking in their sudden lightening rivening of the drab clinging mendacity of the ordinary, allowing the brilliant and swelling wonder of eternity to muscle thru the tear and take up residence forever here, beautifying it and sanctifying it…

…and other times, miracles are spiderwebs wreathed and decorated in lil diamonds of dew backlit by sun peeking thru the wind-caressed stalks of the cattails…

you the web, me the dew, the sunlight making us Her miracle.

Blessings…friend.  And love

Blessings

(I slept til 4 AM today…that never happens…3 AM was biffed in the nose this morning!  Hope you didn’t bruise your fist?  Ka-POW!  🙂  )

Thinking of you today…and biking at that time…