Hem Clinging

Because sometimes the rain pours down harder than we can see through.  And sometimes the nights are too short and the baby cries long and the discomfort kicks bruises.  But the grace of God sings through the dripping and He’s there.  He’s. Right. There.  And we’re all alright.  No pain stings more than hands pierced hanging from a cross, by choice. So tho the water feels up to your neck and there’s paint smeared on the bathroom wall and dried up egg sitting out from last night and all in these walls feels cramped and dirty, He’s got you.  Hang on friend, cause tomorrow brings options for hammock swinging cause strength comes from clutching the hem of a risen Saviour.

purely clinging




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