Three years ago we moved from Michigan to Asheville, North Carolina with a minivan full of our only possessions and hearts finding a new rhythm of yes and maybe and hope bleeds south.
This afternoon I am sitting under an oak tree with autumn leaves changing before my eyes, reds and yellows and purple ~ beside a red, double-decker bus in the heart of the city. The coffee steams my face as I wait and reflect.
I am not who I was.
The gospel refuses to stay silent. The unshakeable resolve of resurrection rises from the ashes of a thousand matches, burning like a wildfire ~ ; a freight train of grace that prevails over law.
Tonight, we will sit together as a family at a downtown diner, to celebrate and reflect on the power of love. We will share a pizza and laughter and probably end up getting ice cream to chase the bittersweet away.