it is that mysterious, fierce-fisted, tender-skinned presence that, when earnestly and desperately invited, instantly responds, arriving from seemingly out of nowhere, and upon taking a look around, simply says,

‘No. This is not how it is going to end. I love you too much for that.’

Then steps into the gap to rewrite the ending.

— grace.

{📷 progress on my work table}

sunday night. our weekend was peaceful and busy. the usual end-of-the-month errands were run. a grocery shop. washing done. the week ahead has been glanced at. for the first time in a long while i have no writing, or meditation sessions booked. more time for listening, and stitching, but also for questioning. our boy is learning how to tie his shoe laces. he has the most patient and gentle dad. for this, i am so grateful. our boy is growing into his man-skin. every few days we shave the soft, fuzzy hair from his chin and upper lip. it always stops something within my heart for a few seconds. he turns 16 this year, but has the inner world and heart of a young boy. paw patrol and dinosaurs and my little pony are his great loves. this makes my heart contract with a deep, deep love, but it also keeps me talking to God at 2am and 3pm and whenever my eyes strap on their travelling shoes to go on a recce into the foreign lands of the future. always, always they return with stories of the giants they have seen, and always, always, i make them a cup of tea and entertain their missives, before folding myself in half and washing the feet of God with my tears.

and always, always, seemingly out of nowhere, the slightest breeze arrives, the slightest whisper,

‘No. This is not how it is going to end. I love him too much for that.’ stepping into the gap to rewrite the ending.

© Liezel Graham 2024