(Or things that I feel the need to mention before I continue blogging)
I’m from 3 books at the library on Wednesday evenings
and talking too fast to be understood
We are infinite, God and I. Some infinities are simply larger than other infinities. That’s math; I learned it from a John Green novel.
Other than this last week, I’ve spent months in silence. Sometimes I think I am too much of a perfectionist about what I post on here, and that’s why it’s so hard for me to post regularly. So here I am posting something that scares my perfectionism to death: unpolished, unedited, unfiltered. Not a story. Just me, spilled onto paper.
Bury me in an old graveyard…
Beauty in life is easy to see and appreciate, but beauty in death – that is a rare gift.
My mind is a forest. Sometimes I am lost in it. . In some places, Sun shines through trees Gold through green Leaves dance down little fairy… Read more “My mind is a forest…”
It’s hard, when you have total faith that this is what God is calling you to do and still the doors feel like they’re not only closed before you, but also locked. But he’d been praying and today God replied:
“Go to Cleburne airport tonight and stay until sunset.”
Some people have a homeland; a place that their heart calls most beautiful on earth, a place they always want to go back to.
There are stories written in the skin of my arms.