Fresh

On the days when I forget the big things. I go home. Home to the words of love on a page breathed by the divine, home to a page where love meets forgiveness. Daily. Where hope blossoms fresh everyday. I go back to my place; a place of remembrance that I am loved, that I am new, that I am righteous. That God doesn’t give his love in pieces he lavishes it. That he doesn’t give his mercy in tear drops but in rainstorms. That joy comes new every morning and darkness is always, ALWAYS, overcome. On days I forget; I remember I am “loved with an every lasting love” that he is my “fortress” that in his wings I find all that I am. All that he says I am. Darling girl remember who you are. Remember the steadfastness of his love, his faithfulness. His provision. For he has loved, he has provided, he was faithful. Even if you don’t see it or remember it. It is true. For his nature is just. And in him there is total freedom.

Freedom from pain. For he is fresh every minute.

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