Friday, March 7, 2014

like rain

Grace falls like rain.  It pours.  Drenches me, soaks my heart—this heart that beats without any help from me.

I was knit in my mother's womb and I don't remember when this heart first began its pumping.  The Rain had been falling long before.

Grace doesn't measure me, but transforms me by renewal while I press on through struggle or heartache or happy moments.  Yes, it's this I get to participate in—acceptance of you and me.  Us.

And when I fail there is only all the more Grace, in musical silence, whispering love.

I am cherished.

I am chosen.



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