Another week is beginning, how’s our hearts?

Those hurts that came, that come and come again in different ways, but sometimes feel the same? I’ll always hold on to a simple whisper that literally changed my life a few years ago.

Imagine me in the kind of pain where you curl up on the floor and ugly cry, “This is too hard, too hard!”… And then—so simply, “It’s suppose to be.”

Lord, You test and refine me—You shape me.
The path you lead me on is difficult. It’s difficult by design.
You plant me, I hear Your voice through the dirt
calling me up and through the darkness of the soil.
Don’t let me get lost in the night!

—Excerpt from Day 8 in Pray, Like a Woman in Labor by Raynna


Someone special I know recently picked up some flower remains (seed) as they withered and died for the season: tossed them into a container and forgot about them.

Sometimes we toss a whole lot of our withering parts into a container and forget about them too, forget about the moisture in them, the life: sometimes we forget how life grows in dark places… And then one day the lid just starts busting off because it doesn’t matter whether we know it or knew it at one time, or not. The miracle is written in the seeds. It’s not up to us.

Such real danger surrounds the aching heart
and such wonder too.
Praying for wonder with you, “…and lead us not into temptation…”



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