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Pieces of Pain

Pain; whether physical or emotional can be incredibly exhausting.  Both take from us what we normally are able to handle.  We can pray through most of our heartache, we can take medicine that heals our body or mind, we can even crawl into a cave (literally or figuratively) and hide for a few hours or days, but what we cannot do is hide from our Father.

In the depths of our despair, at the bottom of our pain tolerance, there He is.  He is always there, no matter.  Why do we turn away?  Do we think we aren’t worthy when we are filled with the many feelings produced when we are down?  It’s when we feel most unloved, that we are most loved.

Hebrews 7:25  Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them.
Luke 12:28  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!
You matter.  You always have.
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Pieces from my childhood

I have been inspired by this book; since it sat on the nightstand table of my mother’s side of the bed since I was a little girl.  I used to hold the book in my hand, flip through the pages, look at the various drawings of seashells and wonder why it was so important to my mother.

It was written in 1955 by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, and rewritten 20 years later.  it could have been written today, in 2015.  If you’ve ever walked on a sandy beach, for the sole purpose of picking shells, you’ve ‘lived’ this book.

I won’t spoil the book for you, now that your interest has been piqued, and I do encourage you to read it; request from your library!  Let me just say that it is incredibly simply written, it will move you to understand the hand of God much clearer than maybe you do now.

Secondly, from my childhood, is the bible we gave mom on Mother’s Day 1975.  I am so blessed to have this book in my possession now, in fact -it is the only bible I use now, each day I thumb through the pages as part of my bible study; perhaps in the same way mom did.

My mother died in 1978, I was 14 years old.  The reason I wrote “The Pieces” and why I blog here is it was through her passing to 25-some-odd years later that I returned to our Heavenly Father, relieved to be the prodigal daughter – accepted and loved as if I never had left.

I encourage you to find pieces from your childhood that bring joy and look at them again, as an adult with adult eyes.  You may be pleasantly surprised to feel some of that happiness again!

I understand now, why my mother enjoyed this book so much and why it was at the top of her book pile.  It is on my bookshelf with only my favorite books.  Full circle.