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nothing less
The other day I got a whiff of my six-year-old’s feet as he swang on our hammock, and I knew something drastic needed to be done. Summer will soon be upon us, and although I know I won’t always win the battle against crocs and smelly feet, this day I held out hope. So as…
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how could this be
that from so many tears, joy would bloom? that from such deep heartache, I would know love better, more intimately, than others who have been spared? that my children would see their mommy get out of bed, shed her grave clothes, and take on another day? I’ll tell you how. Jesus. He promised me back…
a scribble of jo 