She hath wings
Learning to soar above life's storms
Category: Making Sense of the Journey
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When I was growing up, I knew from a very young age that I was super sensitive. Words hurt me or built me up with incredible ease on both accounts. I would mull over what was said, trying to squeeze every inch of meaning out of the words. I would analyse until I could go…
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From my heart came a cry, Which You helped me share in words; When I was weak and crushed, You helped me recognise the storm. Not from You, but for good- You allowed this storm to come; Though it damaged, You restored, As I came to rest in You. Many lessons to embrace- Some still…
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For quite some time now, I have been unable to process the swirling thoughts in my head. I was overwhelmed with thoughts and emotions I couldn’t make sense of. A friend I have come to trust for wisdom and a listening ear helped me start to make sense of it all this week. Buried memories…
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I happened to check my WordPress account, feeling sure that no-one would have visited the site in my long absence. I was shocked to find that I was mistaken. Readers, you have prompted me to write again – thankyou! I have spent a number of weeks making daily gratitude posts on my Facebook page to…
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Staying home makes you face so many things…However long the days, however inconvenient these times are, we are being stretched and irreversably altered for a reason.
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I’ve tried all week to watch a movie on Netflix but I just couldn’t settle and concentrate. At first I obsessively checked the Coronavirus death/case counts for the countries mentioned, studying the graphs, trying to predict what would happen next, awake past midnight and getting more anxious by the minute. Then I began to worship.…
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What a busy start to the school year- I had already returned to work the week prior to when my son returned. My daughter has been super clingy and my son has been struggling to fall asleep till late- so much in his mind. I have had a tendency to brush off their neediness, so…
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As the Christmas lights dim and carolling ceases, Children’s toys litter the floor in pieces – My reflective mood comes to the surface again; Time to stop and pick up the pen! I’m too old to believe in fairytale life, As I read of bushfires and growing strife, Yet there’s something that gives me hope…
She hath wings 