Last night he asked, "I took you from your home, didn't I?"
And I waited for my words to form.
Answered, a soft sigh, "Yeah."
But, my answer was slow in coming because I thought of all the good in this place.
And I was happy to be asked, to have Georgia remembered.
Driving home from boot camp, I'd stretched myself even more, things like planks, crunches and mostly the people around watching me try had worn me out.
The sun was setting as I turned up the hill that meets sharp curve and the sky a mixture of dark and light after a rain.
I decided, the sky was God to me and God, the sky.
I glance upwards often, it has become my place to remember where I began.
I begin each morning in the same spot. My journal in my lap, pretty pencil in my hand.
Everyday, the prayer of Jabez, the one I've seen answered. That God would bless me indeed, enlarge my borders and keep His hand on me so that I not be in pain.
Then, I read and I think and add penciled prayers to pages.
Father, thank you for mornings.
For not giving up on me.
For making me fearfully and wonderfully and for calling me towards you so that I every day I'm beginning to know surely and more fully and more well the way you made me for this time
Thank you for Georgia, the place that made me and thank you for mornings and my morning place in this place.
“He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.”
Psalms 23:3 ESV
Linking up for Five Minute Friday and thankful God made me to love words and gives opportunity to write and read and grow.