‘He lets me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters. He renews my life.’ Psalms 23:2, 3
Your story is one that gets mined – like coal and diamonds, it’s a process. There will be discomfort. Pain.
Your tale can never be found in a book. It comes from an eye-witness account of your people, your sunrises, your life.
You know you are on the right path if your knuckles get scraped up, you have restless nights, like sleeping on the cold ground – not once, but over and over again.
In every life story, your blood gets spilled along the way, sometimes, the blood of others. Stumbling around in the dark, walking circles in the night, bone-chilling adventures are teachers, hair-raising revelations surface. God is working in you there, in every tender place. His Spirit moves in the tender.
Work with these, DearOne. Work with your stories, work with your life – yours – not someone else’s. Water them with your tears and your ways til the Spirit blooms bigger there.
And then, bloom again.