...overwhelmed. My broken plate brought me my friend. She was missing. I thought I lost her. But she was found. She has been walking a path of broken being. I talked to her for 3 hours. Well into the early morning hours of a regular Sunday, we spoke. I have not seen that time on a clock in quite some time. Three magical, joyful, painful hours the day I wrote that blog post. It had been years. Too many years.
She sounded more whole than I have ever heard her. She broke. But now she has found strength. A strength that calls her to the quiet life. She is resting in the storm. I love her.
To all of you who feel broken and alone. To all of you who carry the weight of the truth on your shoulder possibly being the only one who knows: You are not what they say you are. You are more. You are living. You are being. You are wonderful. Wear your broken with passion because it completes you. Never cease being curious.
John 8: 32 "Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free."
Be free.
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