The Story on Christmas
I’ve been writing a ton…just not blogging. It’s been hard and wonderful.
I’m getting acquainted with the portion of me that requires divulging myself—to do life with others. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t write if you are in the room with me. You would be a major brain clogging distraction. However; we have been written. Every. One. Even strangers who are living, falling, hurting, and needing just as I am. You are my companions and encouragers, and we were made for each other.
I have a Christmas list of all the wondrous works God has done this year:
Frederick David Bennett.
Preserved Daughters and Son-In-Laws.
I walk everywhere.
Husband smells everything.
50 years of life.
Drove around the city of Chicago by myself again and again…even in the dark.
Foster Care License.
Began a Book.
Gave food and education to 65 children.
Spoke openly in front of thousands of people.
Caught and dried every tear.
Gave understanding that all I thought I did and could never do…He has, and does…easily.
“Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.
And in Your book they all were written,
The days fashioned for me,
When as yet there were none of them.” Psalm 139:16