My kids are looking forward to this camp our church puts on for the older ones during VBS. They mention it every once in awhile with an “I can’t wait behind it”. We’re getting better, the dark days getting brighter. Hope is growing, hope that things will get better.
I’m working hard on a coding class so I can get a better job and my mom is helping to watch the kids. They miss me, I miss them. It’s hard, they don’t understand why. I’ve found it helps to talk with them about my hopes; about my dreams for and with them.
I want to take them hang-gliding in the Alps, I want to drink cappuccino in Italy and laugh at their foam mustaches, I want to go to Australia, feel the ocean breeze and learn the lingo. I’m not sure if any of this will ever happen, who knows? But it’s so good to hope again. Maybe there are many good things in our future.
Leave the safety of what you know
and let my love be your safety instead.
Be my beloved.
Come follow me. And I will give you rest.
This is a deeper kind of rest, that people who might want to put you in a box (or have you stay in it) – or expect you to do something in order to gain their influence, approval, or attention – won’t understand.
Photo by Anton Repponen on Unsplash