I am struck tonight in the stillness by a sense of the strangeness of grace.
So many threads make up the narrative of my story. There are dark threads, shadowed with trauma. Pain weaves throughout, as a journeymate.
But there is more. Somewhere underneath, peeking through, are threads that shimmer. I am not sure what they are, yet.
But even from this side of the cloth, there is beauty.
May it be.