This year, at the Dixie Classic Fair in October, something significant happened.  I was reminded of it this morning.  To read what happened, click on the drawing above to enlarge it.

When words fly out of my mouth like this, they often have a sense of gravity to them, as if I’m not just saying them to the other person, but saying them to myself as well.  There are so many things I long for.  We could call them dreams, but that word seems flimsy in comparison to what I’m trying to convey.  They are the things wrapped up in our creative dreams, in our relational hopes, in the things we both have and want.  I know my own self, as an adult, to be just like my youngest, when something has been taken away, or it breaks, or it’s just out of reach.

Lately, I’m trying to remember my own words…

Leave it with your Dad, Jen. Put it at His place at the table and leave it there for Him.  He WILL get to it in His time.  It may not be tomorrow or next week, or even in this life.  But He will get to it.