And when you choose to remember your regrets instead of your redemption, you can live believing you're wounded and broken when you're actually whole and redeemed, and born to be bigger than any of your bruises.
...this story of a damsel, who thought of the ridiculous - that she could drain the brook by the bucket...
This is our song of courage, our praise for every pain, and the faith for our fear so we need not be scarred over our failures, or scared over our problems ahead.
You can always count on God to water arid hearts and to rend impossible heavens opened. So we can foretaste the sweet out of His bounty for all our bitter. Because His rain isn't merely sentimental, but supernatural, His comfort supersedes every sorrow and every tear we've shed.
So it's no longer oxymoronic to place the word 'victors' next to who we used to be: 'victims', because this is the way to defy average, anxiety, and ageing.
Though the world may go insane, there remains for us an anchor for our soul
…let me take a moment to pause right here and worship…because this is the truth: our rest and peace today is found in one place, in one Person…
So the two girls came running to me, hand in hand, and gasping for air, they asked for permission if they could ride the horses together…these two girls are cousins-born-sisters, and I’m sure they would spend every waking moments talking if they could, and they leaped happy when I nodded to them with a big yes grin.
Internally, I could feel my own pulse quickening, – I am looking for something to do, my own internal circuitry beeping, a type A personality they say, when you feel kinda awkward to relax, even on holidays like this.
Transported into a different world, finding myself at a leisurely place, I had asked myself this: “What would it take to make this, a superb holiday, a real getaway?”
We had been busy. A family with a whirlwind of activities. And we had flown out. And the world’s been clamouring noisy that morning with the news of the Oregon shooting
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