She grasped my hand as we stood there on the brown grass, while wild boys raced round us on wild boy business. In that moment, I was her mother, and we were a family, and it didn’t matter that at the time I had no father, and my own mother was on the other side of the state.Come hang with Sarah and me to read the rest.
On searching for family
01 July 2012
So I'm spreading my wings a bit and writing over at Sarah Bessey | the intersections of a spirit-filled life today. I'm so grateful she was willing to host this piece, which was a bit of an experiment for me. Not just the guest posting, but the opening of a door in my writing that has remained closed since, oh I don't know, the 4th grade?