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“People say sometimes that it must’ve been hard, growing up without a father figure . . . No, by the time I was six years old, I had already witnessed what a man should be, how a man should act. I saw it in my own momma, who put on a man’s britches and worked in the field all day, then iron mountains of clothes at night, for pocket change.”
- Rick Bragg, All Over But The Shoutin’
When Jesus saw her, he called her over. “Woman, you’re free!” He laid hands on her and suddenly she was standing straight and tall, giving glory to God.
- Jesus, Luke 13 in The Message
Hello dear friends,
How are you today? I’m pondering your lives as I type, where you might be reading this, in a cafe, on the couch while the kids play outside, parked in the car filling a quiet moment, tucked away over a tasty treat? Maybe you’re carrying a deep sadness no one but God knows about? I’m so sorry, just know you're not alone. I pray blessings for you, comfort andsolace, friendship and a love that sees you. I pray for beauty, creativity, the discovery of new delights and the recovery of forgotten ones. I hope this issue brings some pleasure as you peruse my humble offerings.
My heart is heavy at the news headlines, especially today as I write. It is overwhelming. It can make what I do here seem so very insignificant and yet on the other side of the same coin, all the more important.
Here I am, creating, curating, writing. I don’t write because I have answers, I write because I have questions.
This week in my quiet time, I wrote a prayer to God.
That was enough.
I read a comment on Instagram this morning:
We are not alone in our sorrows. The very heart of Christ is sorrowing with us at what we see. Indeed, all creation groans. Even groans are prayers. As we embrace our sorrow, as we share and bear witness to the truth of the grief, we place an arm around each other. The brokenness of this world is screaming at us from every corner but if we can look for the beauty, the world we imagine, the world to come, hope will rise up and anchor our storm tossed souls.
”My deep belief is that beauty has a story to tell, one that was meant by God to speak to us of his character and reality, meant to grip our failing hands with hope. To believe the truth that beauty tells: this is a great struggle from the depths of our grief. To trust the hope it teaches us to hunger toward: this is our fierce battle. To craft the world it helps us to imagine: this is our creative, death-defying work. Beauty and brokenness told me two different stories about the world. I believe that Beauty told true.” - Sarah Clarkson, This Beautiful Truth This is my death-defying work. Beauty is telling a story which my failing hands grip with hope.