Our life’s tapestry with it’s various tears and snags, the frayed ends of it letting loose without end–how many times had I wanted to roll it up and toss it out for it’s ugliness? I’d only seen the shrapnel. I’d completely missed the beauty.
In certain recent seasons, I’ve battled for vision–hungering to see. I’ve ached for newness, for hope when the clouds gather and spill. I’ve stretched my life out before me, it’s dusty threads dangling–some places threadbare and worn right through.
And for years, all I’ve seen are the holes–the lacking, the mess of it.
But there’s this wild thing that happens when you start looking harder for God, looking less at the mess–
I’m deeply honored to be guest posting today over at Duane’s place. Come finish this post over there.
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