One of the perils of Feminine Christianity permeating today's Body is the unwavering premise God is one who authors and scripts tenderly, softly, sweetly, etc.
It is rather my experience that He is violent and abrasive in His pennings.
With about as much sweetness as a Brillo pad laced with jagged glass.
Things which have been ripped asunder in life and in my heart are occurring with the type of pain that there are no human words for.
Yes, THAT type of pain. And yes, things which are His doing.
This season seems just almost about to stop rippling when double-whammys stun to the core with heart-numbing concussions.
This has been happening in two's.
I've commonly heard a lot of folks refer to things coming in threes.
Two's. Three's.
Hmmm. Twenty-three's.
I wonder how numb you were when here, Jesus. No one cares to think about that, do they?
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