Posted by: rosanneromero | April 10, 2010

I’m watching a friend meander through something.  Some of the equilibrium she’s got,  she owes to years of prayer and crafting.  Its like building a safer place for oneself. Laying out a nest just so ; so that nothing falls through.

But, Lord, some people You just allow to walk in like a storm.  Blowing the few twigs my friend is left with.  She didn’t dream to be in a position like this.  On the contrary, she used to  believe in fairy tales.  Until things came upon her and showed her life is not a fairy tale, there are no magic wands.  How many of us are there?  We’re left to write the rest of the story to make sense of disappointments, disillusion, treason, sickness , affliction and whatever else there is.  Why is is easier for some people?


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