the foundation beneath my knees

Faith wasn’t my strength.

My heart didn’t understand it and my thoughts couldn’t comprehend an idea that was overused and underlived. It presented itself to me as a code word only used by those sitting in the cushioned pews with the well kept Bible resting orderly beside them.

And it wasn’t a part of my life.

So I walked and believed that I wasn’t a woman with enough faith, a woman who wasn’t spiritual or holy enough to stand firm on all that word represented. It was just an idea that I would hide in the closet until I desperately needed it or could finally understand it.

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the redemption in rain

It had been almost 11 months since I’d jumped the big pond with 50 other people. 11 months since I’ve tagged teamed back to back flights across the world with an 11 hour bus ride. 11 months since I’d been on the world race.

Yet here I was again, loading up my backpack with a few pair of clothes and a hammock to add to the ever-growing city within our squad; a bit more packing savvy and a lot less worried with the thought of not having enough.

And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hard. Leaving this time brought a heaviness and a sadness beneath the excitement. The life I had come to love was about to change again and letting go felt a lot harder.

But the sign on the unlocked door said follow Me.

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whom shall I send?

I came to Georgia with very few expectations. I made the trek across three and a half states because I knew it was what I needed in the next season of my life despite not knowing what it looked like or why it had to be Georgia.

I mean. I really like Texas.

But I came, following the eastward path of open doors laid out before me, not having any idea what He had in store.

It didn’t take long for Him to give me a little hint.

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