Life always comes out of death.
This has been a good—hard—year. Through an extended battle with Covid and it’s side effects, it’s been a year to learn much, grow spiritually, become more aware of His presence, and see the power of prayer.
A second childhood, or a second chance at life?
There are a lot of things from this year that I never want to repeat, but I thank You for Your faithfulness through it all.
I am in awe of the blessing of waking up to see another day.
If this long, miserable process has resulted in others being helped, encouraged, strengthened in their faith, and praying like they haven’t before, then it has been worth it.
All in all, now is the season for me to focus on the Father, and be thankful and at peace with what I can or can’t do physically.
I spent the last four months becoming living proof of the things I shared in my previous blog post—The Cleft.
Dying experiences. Suffering experiences. Hard experiences. Loss. If we approach these in the victory of the Cross, we will see them through to the victory of the Resurrection. Life always comes out of death.
It was a simple white frame building, similar in construction to the three houses lined up down the dirt street to the east of it. I walked up the steps onto the wooden porch and was immediately charmed as I entered the old, country, general store. Wood planks made up…