Listening to: Sarah Maclachlan’s Afterglow. It’s about right where I’m at today. I’m belting out the lyrics while I make the kids’ lunch. Heartbreaking, humbling, hopeful. Hope the neighbors don’t hear me.
Humble pie is hard to swallow. Thank the good Lord that it goes down a little easier with a tall glass of grace. And that it’s available by the pitcher, always sitting on the table, poured by Someone with great mercy for me. Otherwise, I might choke. I’m sitting at that table today, knock-kneed legs dangling from the chair. Tie the napkin ’round my neck.