Monthly Archives: September 2012

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Dear Me at 37,

Last week you traveled back in time; back to 1989 when you were just fourteen. And you wrote a letter to yourself back then. It was so important that you look back and see where you were.  You needed to look upon that fresh face, full of hope that upon trying, she would reach that point where life is all roses.

You reminisced a time when an affirming word made you feel whole.  You looked back to a time when completing a level on Mario Bros. made for a good day. Hearing She Drives Me Crazy or anything by Phil Collins was all it took to lift your spirits. But just as quick your day was made, one wrong look from someone in the hallway at school and your joy was stolen.

So flighty.

So insecure.

So petty.

So small.

This is going to hurt a little, but I must ask you.  Have you really changed that much?  Sure you smile and engage in conversation like you're Mrs. Congeniality.  You could now play Monopoly with your brother and sister-n-law  without a fight breaking out over how much money is owed by landing on Park Place. But are you where you want to be?

You know deep down that the smile on your face is an offering that comes when you're elated and when you're crushed. You still spend too much time being the latter. You don't play board games or video games anymore, all your time is spent in this game called life. You still come unleashed on the inside when you feel you're losing or if other people don't play fair.

You looked back for a reason; there was something to be learned. It's true what God's word says: "Everything that was written in the past was written to teach us."

Looking back helped you to learn from those mistakes; the ones you made in  High School and the one you made after supper last night.

You know, there are two ways to look at your mistakes.  You can count every tear and loss.  You can count every bad day and every failure.  The number of times you've shrunken in terror would be too many to list.  So many things go wrong.

But I need you to hear this.  It's not so much about how many mistakes you've made.  Really you've only made one.

You forget your first love.

You make this mistake over and over.

You pray, but then somehow forget that your amen doesn't have to end the interaction. Then you go and do, without remembering or asking what He thinks.

You read those precious promises that God is your refuge and then go off feeling helpless, vulnerable and alone.

You base your day on your successes or how someone else makes you feel instead of relying on the unchanging nature of God.

This BIG mistake, the one where you forget your first love? It's a part of your DNA.  It's what makes you human.

Get over it.

Stop focusing on all that goes wrong.  Instead, pay attention to all the beautiful things that come from your first love, like that rainstorm the other day-the one where you got listen to the thunder roll and it made your heart swell.

Quit thinking about what doesn't go your way and remember that God smiles at you every day through sunshine and the toothy smile of your seven-year old. He tells you that everything is ok through the reassuring words of your husband.  Sometimes He whispers assurance straight to your heart.

So what if you still disappoint- like the time this week when you accidentally took Rylie's completed homework out of her folder and she had to sit out of the whole recess for not having it.  Your first love is with you in your disappointment. He was with Rylie too. He wishes you would know that in the scheme of things, it's not such a big deal.  She forgave you without hesitation.

Your days are filled with hugs and affirmation from your boy and the chance to revel at the creativity and strength of that middle daughter of yours.  There's music to be heard even when your favorite radio station doesn't come in. A chorus of birds waits outside your kitchen window most every morning. You're never alone.

Hey you in the mirror.

Look at your self- back then and now, but not for too long.

It's spending too much time in the mirror that our imperfection begins to define us.

Own us.

Go on and glance in the mirror, but keep looking to your first love.

Just in case you missed my Letter at 14: http://kristiburden.com/?p=2993
 Or say hello @ kristiburden@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Written by Gaye Fowler

CHOSEN

                  This month I celebrate the birth of Ethel Nunley Parker who was born in 1903, in a small rural town in Texas.  Ethel was the eldest of four children.

 

Ethel was 8 years old, when her family moved to Bakersfield, California to work in the oil fields.   This is where Ethel received her first exposure to church.  Her grandmother, Lucy, was a foot-washing - Hard-Shell Baptist.  She took Ethel to Sunday School and church.

 

 

Times were hard in California and things were not going well with her parents.  In 1914, when Ethel was 11 years old, Ethel’s father decided to return to Texas.  Ethel’s mother refused to go with him.  They divorced.  It was decided that they would split the four children.  Ethel and her brother, J.T., came back to Texas with their dad.  Obie, and Tommy stayed in California with their mother.  Less than two months after Ethel left California, her brother Obie died.

 

Ethel’s father, Alpine, remarried in 1916. He married Allie Hall in Benjamin, Texas.  To this union, were added two sisters and a brother for Ethel.  They were a very close family.

Allie was a Christian woman. She taught children in Sunday School in the small Baptist Church where they lived.  She never made Ethel go to church, but through the way she lived, Ethel was greatly influenced. The rest of Ethel’s life she considered Allie to be her mother.

Ethel’s father was a very good and caring man, but was not a Christian. For years he would take Allie to church, but he would stay in the car.  One night while sitting in the car, the Holy Spirit touched his heart.  He immediately left his car and ran down the aisle of the church and gave his heart to Jesus.

Not long after Ethel’s father was saved, Ethel, an adult by now, gave her life to Jesus also.    

1922, Ethel married Omar Parker.  They had two children, Nadene and Joe.

Ethel had always wanted to play the piano. So she took in laundry in order to pay for piano lessons for Nadene.  It wasn’t long before Nadene was the church pianist and Ethel’s sister, Wanda was leading the singing.

Ethel and Omar moved to Brownwood and became members of the First Baptist Church in Early, Texas where Nadene and her husband were members.   Ethel continued to serve the Lord the rest of her life.  She taught children in Sunday School, Bible Drill, and even went with the youth on a ski trip.

Ethel used every opportunity to witness about her Savior.  She and Omar had a café.  She witnessed there.  She witnessed to nurses and doctors when she was in the hospital.  She witnessed to the sick and the needy as she cared for them.

 When Ethel was 90 years old and coming to the end of her life, she was still teaching adults how to read and write, using her Bible.

Before she died September 25, 1993, she asked her nephew, Mike, to do her service.  She told him not to talk about her life, but to preach a good sermon.  “There will be those there that never set foot in church”, she told him

.Ethel was never famous, but was well-known in her community and church where she lived and served her Lord and Savior.

This month, September 1993, I stop to remember her death and to celebrate her life.

On her death-bed she said “My mother didn’t choose me”. No one knew how much she had suffered for nearly 80 years believing she was unloved and unwanted by her mother.  After all she was the only daughter that her mother ever had.

“Why didn’t she choose me to stay?” she had asked herself many times.

She only saw her natural mother twice after the family was separated.  Both times were after Ethel’s daughter Nadene had children.  There had been no contact all those years.

Ethel may not have been chosen by her mother, but God chose her and made her a vessel for His service.

 

When my father and my mother forsake me,

 then the Lord will take me up.

Teach me thy way,

 O Lord, and lead me in a straight path. 

 Psalm 27: 10, 11a

God has chosen all of us.  If we will give him our life, he will use us as a vessel in His service.

I have chosen thee and not cast thee away. 

 Isaiah 41:9

Ethel’s admitted weakness was that she struggled in learning to lean on God.  She kept this poem on her refrigerator door that said:

"Good morning God!  You are ushering in another day, Untouched and freshly new.

Well here I come to ask you, God if You will re-new me too.

Forgive the many errors that I made yesterday,

And let me try again dear God, to walk close in thy way.

But Father, I am well aware; I can't make it on my own,

So take my hand and hold it tight for I cannot walk alone."

She had scribbled these words on the back of an old Sunday School poster.  The edges were ragged and worn, yellowed from age, and her writing had slowly faded through the years.  It was still on her refrigerator when she died.

 

Ethel’s sister, Wanda, best described her in this poem that she wrote about Ethel.

She's Mom – Mother- Meme, She's Grandmother and Sister too

Mother-in-law and Teacher, This list names just a few.

 

We've looked to her for courage,  For strength to carry on,

She's helped to guide us in the right, When everything seemed wrong.

 

There's never been a night too dark, Or the hour 'just too late',

Whenever she was needed, She did not hesitate.

We could continue on and on,  And never really say

All the extra special things,  She did day after day.

 

In flashing lights or headlines bold,  We may never see her name,

But in love it’s written on our hearts,  And she's famous, just the same.

 

Like little children taught to read, Old folks cared for, too.

She's diapered, cooked, cleaned and fed, And spanked quite a few.

 

On Sunday morn, year after year, With Bible open wide,

She taught about God's wondrous love, His Son and how He died.

 

There's so much more that we could say, But now let’s lift our voice and sing,

A tribute to this one we love, Let’s make the heavens ring.

 

There's no way to tell her, How much her love has meant.

I know God had a reason, For she was 'Heaven sent'.

 

 

She opened up her home, her heart, And everyone could see,

That "as she had done it unto the Least of these, She had done it unto me".

 

Ethel Nunley Parker was my grandmother

 

and Kristi’s great grandmother.

 

 

Five Generations

My mother (Nadene), me (Gaye), Grandmother (Ethel)

Her Grandmother Lucy, and her natural mother, Elizabeth

 

Gaye Fowler is a rising author, committed Christian and she's my mom!  She's an awesome "Ma" to thirteen grandkids.   She makes brownies like nobody's business.  A cancer survivor, she believes in the power of prayer. She enjoys genealogy and spending time with her grandkids.   Look for her first book coming soon, "Jardi's Journey".

 

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They're found in couch cushions and deep in pockets.  Long left in ashtrays and piggybanks, pennies sit untouched.

I swept and vacuumed our house for weeks ignoring one in the corner of the living room.

I knew my dad would be ashamed, so I finally decided to pick it up.  Groceries in hand I picked one up in the parking lot a few days ago.

Why?

Because my dad has told me to never leave a penny lying.

"They have value", he tells me.

The world tells me otherwise.  A penny won't get you much.

In a world where we race to meet demanding schedules there's no time for picking up pennies.  We're much more interested in that schedule; and in dollars. If it were a dollar lying on the ground we'd be much more likely to reach down.

-Kind of reminds me of people.

All too often I race; my eyes only adjusted to those in my path.  I speak to those I need to speak to.  I have to send that email.  I've got to be at that meeting.  Well intended quick waves and sincere smiles are exchanged along the way....... in passing.

But I'm missing priceless pennies along the way.

I'm not seeing those who need to be picked up and encouraged.  Shamefully there are those pennies I see- like the one I ignored by my couch for weeks.  It stays in its place waiting.

Like the urging of my own dad, God wants us to keep our eyes wide open.  I know he's provided earthly saints for me when I've needed a kind word or a little help.

- A precious penny who has made my life richer  

We're all of great value to our Father.

He reached down in an unfathomable way to pick us up.  We were each lost and have become found through his death on the cross.

16 This is how we know what love is:

 Jesus Christ laid down his life for us.

 And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.

1 John 3:16

Lay down that broom.  Put down those groceries.  Turn off that TV.

Look, listen. Go.

There are those lost and alone.  They're waiting to be picked up.  See the value in each soul.

 Be like your Father.

Don't forget to come back Thursday for "A Thursday for Your Thoughts".  I finally talked my mom into sharing. If you feel God is leading you to share on a Thursday coming up, send me an email.

I'd love to hear from you- kristiburden@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

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Confession #1,072- I am a control freak.

It's simple.  I like things like I like them.  And even when I don't like things, like speaking in front of people and cabbage, I WILL myself, in my controlling nature, to deal with those things.

It's the unknown that unhinges me.

I couldn't sleep last night.

The week ahead is a busy one.  Amongst the busy, I agreed to do something I haven't done before.  I will be in unfamiliar territory.  I won't have my specific orders until I get there. I won't know where the bathroom is for goodness sake, or how I will be received.

I'm a dot-to-dot girl; not a blank page to be freely doodled on or a word search.  No puzzles. I like the confidence that comes with quickly knowing what is taking shape; like on on a dot-to-dot.  I want to see and know what lies ahead.

I pay no heed to the spoiler alert for movies.  I want the spoiler.  If the guy and the girl don't get together, I want to prepare myself.  If the main character dies, I want to know- so I can opt out of watching the movie, or the ending.

I am in control.

Being in control seems like a safe place to be, but nothing could be farther from the truth.

Outside the boundaries of that safe place lies frenzied fear.

Will I be able to handle this new situation?

When I go to Kenya, will I be able to come back home safely to my children?

If I make a desert besides chocolate chip cookies (pretty much the only dessert I've made since I was 12 and could make with my eyes closed) will it turn out?  That French Toast I tried twice didn't turn out.

Will I get cancer?

Will my kids want to be close to me and their dad when they're grown?

So I stay in my fist-sized comfort zone.

And I eat my chocolate chip cookies while watching a movie I've guilted Hallie into watching with me.  I may even google headaches and ear ringing (something I need to know about) while we're watching the movie because I already know what is going to happen in the movie.  I've watched it three times before.  I like knowing what's going to happen.

In spite of all the things I have control of, which I truly understand is very little, life is uncertain.

Life is unpredictable.

We are surrounded by unknown.

Paul is not my favorite character of the Bible.  He shames me every time.   In Acts 17, the people of Athens were giving all of their attention TO AN UNKNOWN GOD.

I sacrifice my time, my energy and my focus to the UNKNOWN. I give it my fear.

Paul speaks right to me as he tells the Athenians that God's plan is one in which we would seek HIM.

......so that men would seek him

and perhaps reach out and find him,

though he is not far from each one of us.

  For in him we live and move and have our being.

-Acts 17:27,28

He is in control.

Receive the unknown.  He is in it.

You can try and seize the day, but God's already got it.

What are you gripping, that needs to be given to God?

I'd love to hear from you- kristiburden@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

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Star Searchin'

There's nothing like a spontaneous date

Star Searchin'

 in the front yard with your favorite seven year old

Even when it's cloudy

And the city lights drown most every star

There's  something celestial

to the search

despite the mosquitoes and humidity

Just maybe it's that brilliant star in pink

That's right beside you

I'd love to hear from you kristiburden@gmail.com

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DEAR ME

Kristi,

There you are.  I'd recognize you anywhere with your hair as big as your dreams and that shy smile.  You made it through Junior High.  Well done.

You're about to transfer to a bigger school.  You'll be terrified, often forgetting that God who parted the water, the one who walked on water is right beside you.

You'll meet your biggest enemy while at High School.

Oh, don't act so surprised.  You already know her.....IT'S YOU!!!

There will be other people who don't accept you for who you are.  You'll try to figure out how to make sure that everyone likes you..... and you'll fail.

Your Freshman year, you will have to deal with boys who in their insecurity are degrading.  Your dad will go nuts when one of them writes something filthy in the dust on your car.  Amazingly you'll wonder what is wrong with you.

Making friends will take time, but you'll get there.

Algebra will eat your lunch.  It will be the first "C" you get, but it won't be your last.  You will learn your Freshman year that things don't always come easy, despite your best effort.  You'll end up having to have grace when Hayden (who will become your son) has trouble with Math.

Throughout High School you'll be nice to everybody, but your kindness will be more about "fitting in". You'll want the attention of the popular crowd.  Sometimes you'll get it.  And you'll feel as high as a kite......for that day.

You'll learn that "fitting in" isn't all it's cracked up to be, although you will have an addiction to popularity- much like the one you'll have for Dr. Pepper when you become an adult.

Try to be a friend to everyone.

Try not to pay too much attention to whether or not your friendly efforts are appreciated or reciprocated.

Be kind.  Period.

You know, you're pretty good when it comes to running long distances.  I know you're really proud of your running times in the mile and two-mile back in sixth grade.  I love it that your Mom had medals  made for you because it didn't seem they were giving ribbons. (She'll always be your silent cheerleader).  You raced against the boys in the two-mile and beat most of them.....yes, I remember.

So you should be surprised to know that you'll drop out of all sports by the time you're a sophomore.  Winning, or maybe the fear of losing will become more important than improving yourself.

Fear will be your constant companion. You'll be elected Homecoming Queen Nominee, but you won't enjoy a minute of it.  You'll be too worried about losing to your friend, the other nominee, in front of all of those people.

You will have some great teachers.  Some of them will have different beliefs than you and they'll challenge your beliefs. And you'll better know what your beliefs are because of it. Mr. Flowers will tell you that you're tightly wound.  Listen to him, he's trying to tell you to chill out a little.

Coach Harris will be your favorite teacher.  He'll compliment your handwriting just because he knows you need encouragement.  When you go to the Junior prom alone, he'll tell you that the boys are crazy for not asking you to be their date.

It will end up being one of the best nights even though you'll go to Red Lobster in your prom dress with your mom and dad, and your dad will fish for compliments from the waiter for you.

There will be successes you don't expect.  You'll be a class officer all four years, class president your Junior and Senior year.  You'll be president of the Spanish Club too.  You'll be in the National Honor Society and a part of a Peer Assistant Leadership group.  You'll be asked to lead prayer at your graduation ceremony.

You'll be miles outside of your comfort zone, but that will just mean that you're growing.

Parts of your High School time sound pretty dismal right?  I've purposely brought those up.  So many of those difficult times you'll go through will shape who you will become.

You'll learn through heartache and rejection to cherish those who love you as you are.  Your best friend will die in a car wreck. You'll be devastated, but you're going to be alright. You can't change things. Don't take time, or your loved ones for granted.  Hug your mom and dad. Trust them.  Tell your sisters and your brother that you love them.  That way it won't seem so weird saying it when you're older.

Pray more.

You'll look back and wish that you hadn't seen everything that didn't go your way as a failure.

You'll learn that winning isn't everything and losing isn't either.  By the way, you'll have a daughter who refuses to play games even at a baby shower.  She'll hate to lose too.  Good luck with that.

Believe it or not, you'll end up living in the same town with one of your old friends 350 miles from home.  You'll talk with her for hours telling her how wish you had handled this thing called "friendship" better.  Don't be too hard on yourself.

I won't tell you who you end up marrying, but I will say this.  You'll meet him SOON. Your life will be better than those dreams the size of your hair. You'll have three kids that will listen to you about as good as you listened to your mom and dad.  But you'll still think they're the closest thing to perfect.

God's plan is going to knock your socks off!

In the meantime, I'll give you some advice I heard from a ten-year old.

Learn to learn.

A secret?  This ten-year old is your future daughter.

Life with its fleeting miseries, simple pleasures and small victories is glorious my dear-Embrace it!

 

I'd love to hear from you in comments or email kristiburden@gmail.com

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Thankfulness

Written by Laurie Howell

 As I think back to one of the most wonderful times of my life I begin to sense the smells and hear the sounds of a beautiful country where children run barefoot and people walk freely through the countryside.  I smell the red dirt coming from the paths that lead to the grass huts and I hear the children laughing as they walk from place to place and play games in the rugged streets.  This land that I grew to love during my college days is the land of Kenya, East Africa.

I thank the Lord for giving me the opportunity to spend my days in such a welcoming place and for allowing me to see Him become alive to those who have never heard the name of Jesus.  There are many things I could tell you about my experiences there but the one word that the Lord brings to mind is thankfulness.  You see as time has gone by and over twelve years have come and gone since I stepped foot on African soil I have begun to lose sight of what God has given us and the many blessings he bestows on us each day.

What prompted the reminiscing of the months I spent in Kenya this week was having our hot water heater go out last Thursday morning.  As I was taking a very cold bath and shivering through it I remembered how many times I took a cold shower during my stay in Africa.

As I thought of the people there and how many of them have never even had a hot bath I became disgusted with my heart and my frustration.  Although these students that I had the opportunity to teach lacked so much of the everyday things that we take for granted, they still had smiles on their faces and a love for God like I had never seen before.

I had the experience of serving under a missionary of 25 years to Kenya, Jill Branyon.  She taught me to be thankful for all that was given and to trust in the Lord with all of my heart.  It was under her mentorship that I learned the meaning of discipleship and giving myself to others so that they may know the love of Christ.

After all of these years she is still my mentor and friend.  I praise God that she always shares the truth with me and does not allow me to become complacent in my walk. I pray that we will all stop and look around us and take in the blessings we have and thank God for all that he does for us.

I am grateful for the loss of hot water in my house this week because it has brought me back to where I was when I returned from Kenya so long ago….so very thankful for what I have.

  “In everything give thanks

 for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus concerning you.”

 1 Thessalonians 5:19 NASB

 Laurie LeAnne Howell: I am a mother of a sweet two-year old baby girl, Brenlee Kate, and we have one little one on the way. I enjoy spending time with my daughter and being a stay at home mom.

  I have been married to my husband, Micah Howell, for nine years.  He is a youth pastor and we love sharing our lives with the students at First Baptist Church of Nederland, Texas.  I had the opportunity to serve overseas in Kenya with the International Mission Board on three different occasions.  It was on one of those trips where I fell in love with a young college student who loved to preach the name of Jesus who I am married to today.

 I have been able to see many children who have been abused and neglected adopted into forever families who love and support them.  I worked for a foster placing and adoption agency for six years before starting our little family.  Thanks be to God who loves us and gives us the chance to glorify Him in all that we do.

Consider sharing your thoughts or your story on "A Thursday for Your Thoughts" .  Every Thursday post has been an absolute blessing to me.  I relate to your experiences and when I can't, I revel in God's making of your unique story.  I am continually touched. 

Email your story with pictures or any questions to- www.kristiburden.com

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The dew drops collect

and willingly the clouds receive them.

The clouds grow with outstretched arms

Like worries they build.

Their billowing beauty is seen from a distance

but the clouds are unaware.

Swelling under the weight

the clouds let go

and the rain falls.

It hushes the thirsty land.

Now weightless, free, the clouds

look down at beauty and growth promised.

They look up thankful, smiling at having purpose.

He covers the heavens with clouds, provides rain for the earth, and makes the grass grow in mountain pastures.

-Psalm 147:8

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“Wake up, sleeper,  

   rise from the dead,    

 and Christ will shine on you.”

-Ephesians 5:14

I can count on one hand the times I've cleaned the inside of an oven; I'm talking about REALLY cleaning the oven.  My first time at the job would be unforgettable.

At our first house, we had an old oven in dire need of cleaning.  I sprayed Easy-Off liberally so that my job would be effortless.  I got a scrubbing pad and began to clean.  Using my elbow grease, I rubbed the wet cloth back and forth in a rhythmic motion cleaning the sides of the oven followed by the top and bottom.

I saved the back of the oven, the place most hard to reach for last.  As I was going through the cleaning motions, I was arrested.  A jolt of electricity flowed through my arm and through my entire body.

I had been unaware that a bulb at the back of the oven was broken so that there was no barrier between voltage and me.

For minutes I was unable to speak or move.  Only my heart moved as it pumped wildly.

What started as a simple and monotonous task proved to shake my world rendering me speechless and astonished.

I guess you could call it an awakening.

There was power in that oven I had no idea existed.

I like the word "Awaken". I think it carries power too.  It's a word I liken to the phrase "Snap out of it"!  Leave the ordinary behind.

It's a word I think we're hearing more of in spiritual circles...and I'm glad.  I believe there's a call for Christians to awaken.  We attend Bible Studies and Worship services and we pray, but so often we're going through the motions. 

Apparently a group of Lamar students have been arrested by the power of some holy voltage.

  A conference is being put together by these Lamar students, some of Nederland FBC's very own. It's called Awaken.   Here is a snippet of their mission statement:

Lamar University has over twenty-five different Christian-based organizations on campus.  The goal and purpose of the Awaken 2012 Conference is based on Ephesians 5:14: Wake up, sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you. Awaken’s mission is to challenge students to rise up to a greater purpose. There will be power  and encouragement when  all organizations and believers on campus come together to worship and praise the living God together. God has been moving at Lamar University in incredible ways the past couple of years, and God will do immeasurably more through this conference.

Check out their website and be blessed by how God is working.  You'll also find ways you can be a part.

www.awakenlu.com

 

 

 

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A Prayer-

I failed at making French Toast again.

Last time I blamed it on the burner, this time I'm blaming it on the pan.  But in reality, I just know I'm not made to cook French toast.

Yesterday while carrying the groceries in, I kicked a branch with thorns while wearing flip-flops.  Two thorns went under my big toenail.  Who does that?  I started to take a picture but decided to spare everyone of something so grotesque, and myself of the embarrassment of posting such a picture.

Part of supper ended up on the floor last night with shards of glass from the broken dish.  Wasn't it just a month ago that this happened last?

My pants don't fit the same.  Girlish blemishes which are uncoverable by make-up are visiting again.  I just tell myself that means I'm still girlish but the gray hairs lean down whispering in my ear- "It isn't so"......

In spite of my doing laundry, without ceasing it seems, there is a pile that continues to grow. There are still groceries to get.  The dust on the furniture seems to have taken up permanent residence.

I sit here typing this post with my bags from the dollar store still on the counter.  My bed isn't made, supper isn't planned and it's time to go get the kids from school.

And P.S. I had to repost this five times because it wouldn't post right.

It's times like these that hiding would be preferable to trudging on.  But trudge on I must. I don't plod forward alone.  You are with me.  I'm in shadows and yet I'm covered by your brightness.

Because you are my help,

 I sing in the shadow of your wings. 

 My soul clings to you;

 your right hand upholds me.

-Psalm 63;7,8

You smile, I believe, with me- here in the shadows- because I am with you.  I recognize my need for you in this dim place. And I smile too, because being close to you is much better than good fitting jeans or the perfect French Toast.

I'd love to hear about your day.
 Post in comments or shoot me an email- kristiburden@gmail.com