He's so good. Unrelentingly. Unfathomably.
But I see so little of it sometimes...because my eyes, they're the dim kind.
Slowly though, they catch the light.
Increasingly though, they're remembering to look up.
And more than a heart could fathom.
There's grace, acceptance, and welcoming that greets them.
And before I know it, I'm again, blinded by the warmth of the light.
photo by: luca bortolato
fighting the fatigue....because one can not be made up of only ideals. one needs a heart to go with those ideals. one needs hopes, dreams, fears, and stories to be real.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Monday, April 8, 2013
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