Everything we’ve deemed “opposite” and “mismatched” is coming together in a place just beyond our vision.

What adequate words are there to describe the love you have for a person who has loved you every moment of your whole life, before you were even aware? The only word I can come up with as my vision yet again blurs with tears is *grace*. It is all—every bit of it—grace.

In Christ, we have a Companion who has plumbed the depths of disappointment, who can say to our raw hearts, “My child, I know.” | Lent 2023

Once we are with Jesus and all this death and mourning have been met with God’s comfort, and heaven and earth have been joined finally and forever, we’ll have a lot of fun and have the joy of eternity-long, open-hearted, uncomplicated friendship. 

Those scarred hands alone can hold the gratitude and deep sadness we’re feeling all in the same breath as we praise him for a decade together.

Our wounds will not disappear, but they will be made new. The hands of our Healer are transforming our wounds into marks of love,

I ask his Spirit to bring life and joy and do a new thing, but I know life and joy and newness are so often born out hard things. And I feel myself bracing for impact rather than opening my hands.