Isn’t that true of God’s every blessing? He shapes. He offers. He pours the radiance of His grace upon our most meager of offerings and comes forth the rare, the powerful, the long-to-be treasured. We laugh joy in our praise. We bow humble in quiet thanksgiving.
So many blessings. How do we begin to acknowledge fully? How do we number them? For I know so many... so many. But the greatest of these is love.
This girl knows the sacred blessing of love abundant and pure. Ink-scribed words rest tender in my hands. Raw-soul prayers bridge hearts where miles divide. Hand-stitched quilts wrap warm as mother-daughter life-dream whispers span midnight sky.