Why he never spoke words, why I never asked for them, and why we ended up both confused. That, or how in the
Both beautiful and tragic happenings, that can only be chalked up to this thing I have mixed feelings about: timing. Some people say it's everything, but lately I've kind of just felt like shaking it by the scruff of
The longer I live, the more I am pleasantly surprised when I choose to roll with the punches-- for you really must, to get to what's real. <---- Yes, enjoy that over-philosophizing of
In other news: I've finally been able to set up my work space this week, and despite being held back by bronchitis (apparently my body was just not ready to defend itself yet, after the poison ivy), I am so excited to resume work on my canvas goods! The whole 3 and a half week ordeal has left me desperate for action in a way I've never felt, which I think is somewhat the point God is making: I should always take full advantage of each day, opportunity, or experience because I could be benched at any moment.
It's strange to feel so run down and so blessed at the same time, but I do. If you've read here long at all, you'll know that I love juxtaposition-- I think I'm beginning to realize that the heart of that is really