do You remember when many of my entries claimed to be the last One, except it wasn’t? Perhaps this is the One, the End, who knows. Great stories can be hard to put away.
I’m not sure yet where this peace and faith originate, but it’s evident to me that I am learning to find a better balance when the waves of “you” or “you” or anyone else come. Less attached to each glassy movement, I am going to be OK. Alive or dead, I am one with the One who created me.
One who has learned that forgiveness means forgetting all the stories that came before today. As each story reminder comes forth, I lay them down again. Praying simply for peace of head and heart. What someOne else feels or thinks is a mystery and a question filled with infinite possibility. In ‘The End’ though, ‘it is finished’ and just as it was many moons ago when my brother Jesus walked in similar shoes (size seven, plus a half).
Jesus was my brother’s name, then came some other brothers from another mother and some sisters too. All with pictures and stories that seem infinitely more perfect than this One. That’s the genius of it all. Perfection is a fine line.