Precious Friend

The other day, as I was passing through the crowds at church, I saw a good handful of people who have walked with me for the last several years in my season of brokenness. Some, casual friends or pastors, and then the others who know all the ugly; inside and out. I couldn’t hide my smile, even in the midst of more frustrating news I had just received that the enemy keeps flying in my face lately. “Nope! He is not going to steal my joy today!” God has been so good to me. His gracious tenderness has astounded me; overwhelmed me, these last few years.

I was just thinking back to the first time I can remember feeling so alone in my broken state. I felt like no one saw me. No one cared. It felt like no matter what I said, no one could hear me. . . not even God. Of course I knew that wasn’t true, but sometimes I allow my feelings to trump the truth. We all do. But that is for another blog; another page.

Today, I just wanted to pull out an old poem that I wrote in 2003 for a precious woman of God, who befriended me and gave me hope when my world was falling apart. I was living in Italy at the time and she lived in South Africa. Rene, you still reside in a special corner of my heart! I love you.

No Greater Friend