It has been a season of broken things.
We wait for the season of mending to begin, but new things break and demand our attention.
We wait for the delicate growth to make itself known in this wintry time.
We see the signs that some have gone before us on this path.
We remember the stories that have sustained us.
We return to the practices that keep us rooted.
We wait for spring to come. We trust the resurrection narrative.
but bestows favor on the humble
1 year ago
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