I've been quiet.
There has been a lot going on & not a lot of words.
My sweet girl lost a dear friend to suicide.
I tried to share about it.
I couldn't.
I can't.
It really isn't my story & my pain to tell.
But watching her experience that pain & the pain I have been experiencing myself
has left me...
wordless.
This from the girl who loves words.
I have thought so much of missed opportunities of sharing my faith...
my story...
from one raised from the pit to a redeemed skank.
Rahab, Mary Magdalene, the woman at the well...
my sisters...
all of us transformed by His grace.
"Our impulse to tell the salvation-story arises from listening to the heart beat of the risen Jesus within us. Telling the story does not require that we become ordained ministers or flamboyant street corner preachers, nor does is demand that we try to convert people by concussion with one sledgehammer blow of the Bible after another. It simply means we share with others what our lives used to be like, what happened when we met Jesus, and what our lives are like now."
Brennan Manning
Abba's Child
So, I think I'll begin sharing a little more of what I was like before I met Jesus instead of trying to hide it...
maybe you'll join me.
Maybe we both can admit to being redeemed skanks, and
share the miracle of His mercy.
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