Susan LaffertyLittle stacks of memories. On the floor.
Newspaper clippings browned with age. Aerogramme letters, typed full-length and on the flaps. Magazine articles. Journal entries.
There’s no time to read every word.
So we glance. Skim. Scan for tidbits of life history.
And laugh over stories long forgotten.
Nothing can separate us from His love. Nothing.
Death begs to differ. Disease and pain try to write a different story. The troubles in this world whisper hopelessness.
Loss. Division. Fracture. All attempting to question or deny His love, compassion, and care.
And yet. We dare to hope. Because of our Savior.
He writes the true story.
For those who need to surrender. Again. I know how it is. Maybe you’re struggling with the call to stay. Or go. I’ve been there.
Below is a simple heart cry from several years ago. When I felt weak. Empty.
He heard.
