sind or swim
fight or flight.
take it and make it.
What does a mother do when her heart bursts from her chest for her children? For their pain. For their missteps. For their blindness. For their beauty. For their tenderness.
Dear God, if our trials are equally matched with strength and fortitude to survive them, how much do I have? How much must be called to use?
Does love always nearly match pain when one truly invests and gives themselves wholly to the blessing of it?
Dear God, is it mine to learn from, or theirs? Do I let go, or is there work for me in this? Where do you need me to go? To do? To be? To pray?
Dear God, you hold them. Turn them to see you, to hold you, to find you in return.
You are faithful to you word. You work good in all. I wait in wonder for the blessings I know you have in all this. In you alone I trust for what is to come.
in love. trish