Monday, November 28, 2011


I never knew the bed I'd crawl into to get warm in the morning when I was a little girl, would be the one I'd lay on and read Max Lacado stories to my dying mom. I never knew that the Dad who didn't have time for me as a girl, would lavishly cherish my visits and reading to him of scripture during his last year of life on this earth. I never knew launching my kids into independence and adulthood meant that I had to grow up and become something besides my favorite occupation of a mom. I never knew the journey to a great relationship with my husband was through the difficulty of learning to know and share my feelings, and how to help him hear and share mine and his. I never knew that a really good way to a deeper walk with Jesus was through the door of physical pain.

I'm grateful I never knew.

And so glad for the gift of these journeys.

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