I can’t understand the joy.
I can’t understand the joy of playing with kids, can’t understand the joy of reading scientific journal articles, the joy of writing, the joy of reading, the joy of being with family and friends, the joy of exercise. Simple, sweet friends. I can’t understand the joy of making the man on the plane laugh for four hours, the joy of using my humor, of using my intelligence.
I’m returning to the girl who recognized that the things that made her odd or quirky made her special and needed. And now I’m even better for being the girl who is motivated by joy and the Lord rather than the desire to achieve and be important.
I’m even better for being the girl who knows how it feels to walk through relentless brokenness and misunderstanding. I’m even better for building trust in walking with God through brokenness.
I’m thankful that I was able to spend a week across the country celebrating the faithfulness of God in my bestie Rheanna’s life and revel in the creativity of God’s creation