and some days we’re reminded of how small we are.  and of how not-in-control we really are.  and how the smallest decisions at work can be so utterly wrong.

and some days we’re reminded, again, of how much we need grace.  of how imperfect we are.  of how our armor is stained and dented.  a patchwork of stories; stories of victories and failures, of mountain tops and dark valleys, stories of hard breaks and heartache.  stories, knit together with cords of mercy, grace, love and determination.

our armor, my armor, may not be beautiful.  it may not shine like the noonday sun.  it may not be high gloss or something you’d even want to try and polish…. but it tells you about who i am.

for tonight, im thankful for communion.  for the exchange that took place two thousand years ago.  the exchange of my sinfulness for His grace, my failures for His victory, my shortsightedness with His vision.  my pale excuses for hopes, for the dreams He dreams for me.

for tonight, im going to sleep knowing that the one who watches over me will neither slumber nor sleep, that He will watch over my life, both now and forevermore. (psalm 121)

and for that, i am thankful.

Stavesacre – Gold and Silver

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