9pm,
Monday night,
& I'm on my knees deep cleaning this nook of a kitchen,
with a too-small rag in my hand scrubbing these story-filled, old wooden floors...
Slow & steady,
Un-known, un-ready,
Hope begets me,
Draping heavy,
“To heal” He says, “let Me”.
"Death is the great equalizer. It is no respecter of persons. It comes to everyone."
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Rachel is a natural—photographer, writer, and friend. She likes butter in her coffee (it's actually delicious) and people by her side (intensely social, as she puts it). Rachel is a 5'2" extrovert married to a 6'6" introverted engineer. But make no mistake—what she lacks in height, she surely makes up for in charm, passion, and authenticity.
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When the days seem to confuse more than clarify...
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Grace. It belongs no more to one, than another. In a world of possessing, grace defies the rules.
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Toil, soil, & tattered clay,
orever, for never & mendable today.
When our fathers don’t make us feel like daughters,
& when our mornings feel like night.
When our homes feel like prison,
& when our prisons have become home.
I want to build a home,
Of doors & walls & closets with winter coats,
Of icy toes on cold Tuesday morning hardwood,
Of slow coffee sips in sync with the breeze blowing in.