near them.

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Near them, dear. Near where we planted our first intentions of a family. The brokenness that unfolds in their presence. The surrender in limitation to truly experience a limitless mercy, one of God’s, a gift.


I haven’t been there for some time. I know why. Their truest essence pins me down in a sacred longing and makes me yearn for what has been written from the very first day I saw your eyes, love.


Oh, the mirth, the smiles. I sigh.


The memory, how ancient it is. Its brokenness. The streams of forgiveness we are reminded by. The first time we were blessed by its subtle touch. 


I believe we need to be reminded by their nearness in the start. To become enveloped by their grace. All what we knew and ever will— the gift.


Let us receive the gift, dear one.


And if you don’t believe me, just come here one more time. You’ll listen why.

going with grace in an inscrutable world.

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