Teaching

Talking About Georgia

Abuse Survivor, bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, marriage, mercy, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

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.

Today,

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

This place.

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.

Work of Hands

Art, bravery, grace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

This thing I do, getting lost in words and paint, is not at all the work of my hands, but of His.

“And yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay, and you are the potter. We all are formed by your hand.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭64:8‬ ‭NLT‬

I can barely move this morning, huge canvas laid out on the floor last night, I set aside the angel commissions, set my sights on something I thought might be quite special.

Painting and repainting, my knees sore from kneeling, my back aching from reaching, my hands covered in blue grey beige brown paint, thick.

I will begin again today. Have already, spent unhurried time in my Bible and in the book I'm reading, Draw the Circle 40 Day Prayer Challenge, a book I've decided won't be set aside come Day 40.

Draw the Circle

I'll paint today. This time I'll tie my apron, I'll be less hurried. I will let it be or not yet, perhaps I'll finish the angels I've promised before getting upset over the landscape or maybe it will be today, I finish, hang it on the waiting wall.

Day 23 of Draw the Circle prayer challenge is about God saying No to prayers, then answering with a Yes that came from a Not Yet. I am horrible at waiting when it comes to anything that requires I do my part. I painted for five hours straight last night. It was miserable, there was no joy, there was aggravation, frustration and refusing to stop until it was done. Stubborn determination. Then it was done and was nothing at all like I'd hoped. I was disappointed. I had an idea, a perfect place for landscape, rearranged one whole wall and now it's waiting for me, the sun coming in and giving me a new idea.

I'll try again today, but this time with an easy hand, an accepting brushstroke and I'll wait again before I get all wrapped up and forget to eat, forget to rest. I'll not make it an idol, the measure or not of my worth.

The space may be vacant until it is right for what's good to be finished.

My circle today has multiple thick lines circling my thing I'm committed to continue.

Another circle has tiny words, names, needs and prayers for incomprehensible peace. I've taken to praying this way, filling one with others and one with a solitary request for me: things like peace, courage, clarity, and revelations.

Asking God, "Show me the way, make clear your desires for these things you've graced me with the ability to do."

The Circle with others, well I may never know, but I'm praying mighty things for people, things undeniably from God.

Waiting for the promises, trusting in the Father. Being okay with No and at peace with Not yet.

Letting the work of my hands be led by the maker of them.

Words, I Wonder

bravery, courage, Faith, grace, mercy, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

She replied to my comment about the absolute timeliness of her tender tone.

Newly acquainted if acquainted at all through the place where expression is shared called, "Reader".

Ocean all around me.

I wonder her whereabouts and how her thoughts turned towards me

Her words, I wonder.

Several days past, I'm looking for our exchange.

Trying to fathom how she might know.

Did I mention what's become my mantra, my affirmation and motivation?

Maybe I said so, that I'd decided to believe so.

That I was resting on three words?

Last week, the connection continued.

She remembered my upcoming question pending, anxious, worrisome issue.

This writer, this speaker, this person named Julie

Remembered and said she would pray.

Then added,

God is working.

And because I'd said the same exact thing to my pastor, to a friend and now a decidedly solid statement spoken to myself,

I figured, how could she know, I must've surely left it in my comment.

No, it just happened.

Crazy, I thought, oh my goodness!

I must tell you, I'm not a believer in coincidence.

Not at all.

But, something else, the sweetest most fancy of pretty fanciful words.

You won't find it on the pages of your Bible although it's much like blessing,

Much like miracle, like spiritual, perhaps supernatural.

Serendipity.

Yes, serendipity, yes,

an unexpected occurrence in a happy way.

So, tonight I will rest well, because

God is working.

Dare I believe, in serendipitous ways.

In miraculous ways, in unchanging ways.

In mercies that are new every morning

and in the words, I wonder, that one soul holds tight

and another soul

says, yes in agreement?

A Prayer for the Uncertain Creative

bravery, Faith, grace, Prayer, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I must have tucked the words away, the ones shared by David Kanigan about writing and reluctance and for me, waiting to see if others may approve or even just read.

It was wisdom for me, a jewel: Permission to just write without measure of success

I let it linger, mingle with lyrics and truths until it commingled in a good way to make me pray.

I wrote out a prayer last night, cause you know, writing for me, makes it more likely to stick:

God, guide me so that my writing honors you only.

Help me to help others have hope. May my only desire be to please you.

me

Then I wound up again, in the beginning of my Bible and I remembered when Moses told God he absolutely was incapable and God said, let me show you.


Lots of ways to pray it, say it…the prayer for me, the uncertain creative.

Lord, open doors you want opened or Lord,

equip me to glorify you, not me

or you might pray,

God, help me to get me out of your way so that you can have your way or

equip me to write, to paint, to live in a way that brings you honor,

not me

not notice or concern or praise or

sometimes pity because

my words ring too true.

Because of mercy, in Jesus Name,

Amen.

 

Vulnerable, Uncovered 

bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, marriage, Prayer, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

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Only just a few minutes filled up the space of the time the storm moved in and I went outside to notice the sky and then a little more space between us sitting by the pool.

We talked of God and Eden and things we keep covered or rip off the cover, I thought, exposing what we feel must be better, must be ours to know now.  I’d walked outside after the storm had shaken all the windows, my husband walked in the room and announced, “Well, that was some show.” Paused and then to make sure I noticed added “I probably shouldn’t have been standing out in it”.

I listen, knowing he’s talking about the lightning; but, he does this thing lately, like a conversation starter game.  If I hadn’t said, “You mean the lightning?” He’d have come back with “Don’t you wanna know about the show?”

And I would have listened as he told me something I already knew.  Such is the play of who we are now, husband and wife aging, grace and more grace. (Smile.)

I walked out front to see the sky. One big chunk to the left, clearing with a puff in plump peach colored sun popping through enormous cloud.

I turned to face the road and wide bands of dark cobalt stretch out to border the horizon with more clouds warning,  it’s storming over there.

Stood there for a while and wondered how it’s possible to see the sky and not believe.

“O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭8:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Why the sky and its display of power and authority in itself is not enough to make us sure of God.

Why we don’t stay sure for as long as we should when we get to see such glory when we go looking for it, notice it’s God.

“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭8:3-4‬ ‭ESV

The night, too beautiful to be ignored, I walked out back to sit, turned back to see the view and the moon had broken through, full.

I tried to capture it; but, realized I can never do justice, so just gazed instead.

Still thinking about God.

When my husband came out to join me, I asked “Don’t you think it’s amazing how we get to experience earth’s beauty even though creation was not exactly as God planned in Eden?”

He replied, “Do you think we’d all be walking around naked, if Eve hadn’t messed up?”

And since I didn’t answer, he went on to wonder what I thought and said “We would all just be walking around naked and nobody would care about being naked…wouldn’t bother you at all.”

“I guess so.” I replied. Such is the dialogue between us, I’m thinking majesty and beauty, he’s thinking freedom and unclothed bodies. (Smile.)

I thought about Eve later, Adam too.  I reread the account of creation, reminded myself of the earth and sky’s forming, imagined God stepping back like I step back from a canvas, satisfied and thinking it turned out the way I wanted.

And God saw that it was good.

Genesis 1:26

 Adam was created, then Eve and the plan was complete, they’d multiply. The earth would be filled with men, women, children and families.

God welcomed them in, gave instruction on living and left them with a final word not to eat from the tree called knowledge, the tree that distinguished good from evil.

And they didn’t for a while. They must have enjoyed the garden; been content in their state, knowing all they needed was already known.

I wonder about this time in between, how contented changed to discontented and sufficiency became insufficient, how enough became never, always more.

Eve succumbs to the need for more knowledge, more control, more knowing and she eats the fruit that will help her know all, she’s been told.

The serpent’s rationale, well God must have surely known you’d want to eat from the tree or else he’d not have put it here. He wants you to be wise…your eyes will be opened to the bigger the better, the all, you’ll be like Him, the all-knowing.

Then they did their best to hide from God; they’d both become ashamed and they covered what God had intended as beautiful, uncovered.

So began the lots of our lives here on earth.

Wanting to know more than we need to know and then hiding away when we’ve rushed to know it all, certain that we can’t be expected to not know, to trust the one who made us, surely it’s okay to take control.

Yesterday, I read a favorite verse, clinging to just a few of its words.

The secret things belong to the Lord.

“The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.”

‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭29:29‬ ‭ESV‬‬

There are some things that I might never know, that aren’t meant for me to uncover.

Yet, there are so many more I’ve waited to understand that I now see clearly.

Why the road led me to Carolina, my father’s instructions to return to college, the  plans I forced that fell through my fingertips and the healing that I prayed for, believing, but was not given my mama.

There are stories for my children, how things that didn’t turn out, did after all.

Adam and Eve tried to conceal themselves, told God, you can’t see us like this. We know you’ll be angry, we’re afraid so we’ve covered ourselves.

And He was disappointed.

Disappointed they didn’t believe his promise for them, that it wasn’t enough.

He called them out of hiding, asked if they ate from the tree, did someone tell you that you were naked or do you know things now you should not have known, things that weren’t necessary for you to understand?

You will see, some things are too wonderful to be known, to not be sought after, to not be taken hold of by force.

I think of David and his prayer to be restored to the joy of his salvation after giving in to lust and then trying to cover it all up.

I remember Rebekah, the mother who made it her calling to have one son favored over the other, their demise, her legacy.

And I treasure the story of Job. I see him abandoned and grieving, his body covered in sores and his commitment not to question. His friends, his wife all unable to wait alongside him when he’d said no to cursing God and dying.

I hold close his truth, my truth, all our truths…some things are simply too wonderful to know.

“’Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.”

‭‭Job‬ ‭42:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I told someone just now, the major planner that they are, looking far ahead into our futures and the things they expect just makes now look less than enough.

Makes the grand of now go unnoticed.

 

Told them, there’s no way to know that this good thing we expect will come for us. I’m not looking that far ahead nor am I assuming what the wonder of tomorrow will be or not be.

These are the things too wonderful for me to know, not mine to uncover.

Only mine to ponder, to have make more sense when the thoughts become words and I get to spread them out here or in the pages of a tiny pencil marked book, I get to be vulnerable, uncovered. (Smile.)

I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee to Tell His Story.  Read here about why we shouldn’t be afraid to take scary chances.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/scared-heres-shouldnt-take-chicken-exit/

Freedom and Light

bravery, courage, Faith, family, grace, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I woke with no set agenda and allowed myself the luxury of slowly becoming wide awake. 

I’m thinking a new thing today, I keep singin’ “Free your mind and the rest will follow…”

Because, yesterday a change began to be considered. I’d taken a step, asked for feedback, been honest over my angst. 

Been brave about my being afraid. 

I’m remembering this morning, the power of changes I can make, the power of asking God to help me; but, me being able to move towards the bend in the road. 

Ever the one seeking approval, yearning for affirmation, I had become overwhelmed by advisors, critical thinkers, step takers and this is how, let me show you contacts! 

I told the consultant I was overwhelmed by measuring up, by following recommendations and by being good enough in the eyes of others. 

I took a step. I discerned who to believe. Made perfect sense, she knew a little of me, why not show her more? 

I was honest. She listened and responded with a tangible and godly plan: 

i) Has become a little overwhelmed by the whole process of writing and the whole process(1) Too many voices clamoring into her head.
(2) A lot of peer pressure
(a) A lot of other good writers out there
(3) SUGGESTION: Turn off the other voices (unsubscribe, choose not to engage in self-imposed expectations) and just write the manuscript.
ii) Doubting God’s will
(1) Does not want to glorify herself
(2) Does not want to shed light on the trauma
(a) There are some dark times she had forgotten
(b) Does not want to bash
(c) Does not want to remind her family of the hurt
iii) SUGGESTION: Just Write. Do not let the fear of saying too much keep you from writing. Everything can be edited.

So, this morning I stopped counting at 30, the choice to unsubscribe to all of my advisors on writing. I’ve honed it down to five. 

I’ll follow the advice of Stephanie Haynes 

http://www.stephaniehaynes.net/
(oh, I believe it’s a God thing, her name, her frame, her role) and I’ll become independent in my writing. I’ll not hold back. I’ll pour out my heart with the goal of rough draft by July of 2018. 

I reminded myself today of the meaning of independence, of freedom; but, most fitting, I believe is autonomy: the freedom from external control. 



This is where I am this morning, I’m shutting out the voices of too many well meaning and informed advisors and I’m making room to hear my own voice more clearly, more freely, more unafraid. 

More ready to shine my light unhindered by comparison or critique. 

“”You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭5:14-16‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Life and Peace

bravery, Faith, grace, mercy, Prayer, rest, Salvation, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

The spongy little leaves keep popping out, the ones near the soil turning darker, even falling away. I positioned my mama’s broken pot in the direction of my gaze.

When I’m in between understanding and figuring out, I look over and let the void of not always knowing cause me to stop my circling back to self-condemnation.

I don’t understand words like “righteous” fully; I just know I’m not supposed to be self-righteous.

And I don’t really feel good enough to be called pure, I’m more prone to remembering my sins.

Yesterday, I had a chance to sit with someone and talk about being “righteous”.

We talked of tainted pasts and ideas about ourselves shouted loudly from the mouths of others.

I had my Bible and she asked to hold it.

Her hands reached softly, she opened and turned the thin pages with a sweet respect and she noticed the margins, the place where I let my mind unravel, the place where it’s clear I believe.

Her hands moved sweetly over the pages, she sighed “oh” or “so beautiful”, the sketches and my scribbling.

It was a quiet time, unrushed, a beautiful exchange.

Is there need for any more than that?

Than more of moments like these, when I listen to the Spirit nudging me to do something unexpected, to sit with another and talk about my long and winding path to believing I am loved by God?

To do so without long discussion, debate or standing up high on my pedestal to say “this is how it’s done! “?

Because, if I’m honest I’m still learning to rest there myself, believing unwavered.

The little succulents in the broken pot are a miracle really. Finicky little species of plant, they’re best left untended.

Too much water, they drown. Too much shade, they wither. Too much sun, or not warmth from sun in just the right time, the thick leaves fall from the stem that is meant to nourish.

I started with two plants; now, there are five. My mama’s broken pot with birdnest and a feather, now like a shady forest.

The petals that broke away finding soil again, growing on their own amongst the others.

This morning, I went back to questioning my righteousness, unable to fathom ever calling myself pure or noble or upright.

Those labels make no sense to me, I am pondering. I am searching for understanding and I am praying.

Dear Lord,

Enlighten me.

Make things clear for me. Be near so that I will know the nearness of you and

I’ll not need to look for you in the

Measurement of me.

Amen.

Then I turned to Romans, because my read through the Bible guide directed me there, no other reason other than I tend to follow rules.

I saw the margin, recognized my hand there:

The words I’d written “life and peace” and the underlined verses that told me how and why.

“For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

To rely on me for my growth, for where I may be planted is futile. To be so very close to God, it’s oh, so mysteriously unfathomable at times, is really not so complex at all.

Grow where He has me, where he plants me, gives opportunity to bloom again after growing brittle or withered, weary.

To live by the Spirit is to absorb His word and to be less driven towards my part in this life lived by faith,more willing and surrendered to allow His Spirit to be my guide.

Guiding me to places like my Bible in the lap of another and a quiet conversation about why I believe in Jesus.

Not because of the scary preacher who called me “Sinner” but, because of a gentler Spirit, the Holy One.

“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:37-39

linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee today at Tell His Story. Read this really beautiful piece about sitting alongside others and being kind: http://jenniferdukeslee.com/best-thing-can-4th-july/

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Hope and Hard Truth

courage, Faith, family, Teaching, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

I shook my finger at someone today. I saw myself, a visual that made me pause.

I assure you this is not my confident approach. I noticed my movement, wished my hands had kept still.

Talking with my hands, reiterated my stance with finger pointing then for extra effect bouncing, a strong and affirmative nod.

My words were needed; they were justified.

Oh, the hard things, the tough stuff, the role of pointing out and redirecting the wrong.

I walked away, hands tied, heart uncertain.

How is it I’m looking all around, walking heavy, quick steps away from the issue, then I catch a glimpse and I bend to see more closely?

How it is, is God.

I consider it a gift, a feather found as I thought of the burden of being the one whose role requires speaking hard truth.

And following through.

Like a parent who only shows up when things get out of hand, I’m the one who comes in and takes charge, shouts hard truths to those who’ve never been told.

Let it go as long as I can then second, third, fourth, and fifth guess my reaction, a decision must be made.

This is the work of helping another; yet, knowing when perhaps you’ve helped too much.

The dirty little secret of the “helping” profession. Hurt people hurt people. People who’ve gone without will take all they are able, as much as you will give.

So, I walk with music after work, seeking a hint of the lengthy sabbatical I’ve been hinting at pursuing.

It’s evening. I’ve handled conflict. I’ve yawned through meetings and been frustrated by responses of others.

I walk. I run, this evening.  I hear a song saying,

“Whatever’s in front of me help me to sing hallelujah!”

And I see hope,  one bird up high flying alone against thick, thick sky.

I understand, the one left to stand alone, to stand up, stand their ground.


Leadership is lonely sometimes.

Left to fly alone.

To lay the foundation, give directions for growth, do our best to cultivate what’s not recognized as a seed that will grow if watered consistently with consistent expectations.

Sometimes I see the growth, others I only get to imagine what might eventually bloom.

And still others stay the same, taking longer to grow and I’m left to wonder if the breaking through ground happened ever.

I choose to believe, there was good in the soil we watered at the base of their feet, the place of hitting bottom, finding ways to rise anew.

I will always choose to believe, and always I err on the side of hope.

Hopeful every morning that I am a compassionate one holding accountable those whom God has placed within the reach of my helping hands.

“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

‭‭Lamentations‬ ‭3:22-23‬ ‭ESV‬‬

So, tomorrow I’ll make decisions, I’ll hold accountable someone needing to be held accountable with more compassion than today,  I pray.

Better today, more uplifted and “standing tall on the inside”, thanks to Jennifer Dukes Lee. Read her beautiful story about her father’s wisdom and bravery here: http://jenniferdukeslee.com/youre-feeling-weak-defeated-try/

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Steady Now

bravery, courage, Faith, mercy, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

My little Gideon

I almost slipped. The floor causing squeaky basketball sounds, “shuffle, shuffle…squat, shuffle, shuffle, squat!”

My right foot almost folded. I paused in the repetition, considered faking injury, dropping out. 

Began again though, doing this push me farther than before thing. 

Getting stronger, not smaller, I’m changing me for the better. 

Inside too, I woke with this song this morning, “O’ Come to the altar…O’ what a Savior…hallelujah !”

Setting the tone, making steady the way I’m walking today. I pray and I say thank you for teaching me to persist. 

I say thank you for fresh perspective, music in my ear and a tiny Bible close to my work with words that my eyes land upon, saying “I’ve got you…you got this!”

A new idea, I’m excited, plans to prosper them! 

Plans, Passages, Prospering

Keep me steady now, Lord.  Day by day, dear Lord I pray. 

Music, scripture, prayer and persistence.

Steady now. 


Linking up with a community of ideas and grace and writing for Five Minute Friday! 

Visit here:  FMF 

Like the Mornin’

courage, Faith, grace, mercy, praise, Prayer, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I’m gonna do my very best.

I declare. I am. 

Decided, just now, to live more like the morning.

Easy like Sunday or Wednesday or Tuesday,

Mornin’.

Try to live all day “easy peasy” like the thin lines on the blinds becoming silvery gray, drawing me to wake and early, saying let’s go and see.

Morning, takin’  it easy on me.

Time for anticipating, of dark coffee, pink pencil and the corner sofa spot where the tall thin lamp shines down in a quiet welcome, come.

I’m gonna live like morning all day if I can.

To be less frustrated by the unexpected unfriendliness of the day, I’ll turn back to my morning page reread and I’ll decide,

Okay, show me again. I know I read it in your book, underlined, recorded and thought for more than a second…this is God and this is good. This is for me.

No more gettin’ sidetracked by demands and details, brain overloaded from multiple tasks.

I’ve decided to try, too good not to, just try to break the habit of thinkin’ dread and despair and doubt. The things that come out most every middle of the day, like a prisoner breaking out, they’re gonna make their mischief, stir up stuff.

I’m gonna try, here and ready to begin yet again to be unswayed by patterns or people or less than promising plans.

Give me back my morning, no kidding.

I will surely thank me.

If I can live like morning for just a little bit longer like the summer sunrise lingers lazily deciding,  I’m staying up late, I’d surely be more contented come the night.

I’d stretch out my morning mind and soul, establish new ways.

I’m gonna live like the morning, savor it like creamy brown coffee, the color of thick chocolate shake.

I’m gonna cup my cup of morning and do better, I decide.

Less straining towards back home to sigh and declare oh, another day, another day…

Live easy like the mornin’,  yes, so much less me, so much more Him.

“Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust. Make me know the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭143:8‬ ‭ESV‬‬ 

Discovering this Thursday morning, a beautiful and oh, so timely post about joy and suffering at quietlyreminded.com 

What a pretty place to visit, art and words and grace and truth! 

 
Linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee as she writes about family.

http://jenniferdukeslee.com/just-needed-someone-love-god-made-family/