The women slurped spaghetti, made with peppers, mushrooms, sausage, tomatoes. The women bunched together in the small living room. The women testified to the Lord's goodness in their lives. The women laughed. The women held a baby or two. The women sorrowed over a breast cancer in the room. The women prayed with hands touching her. The women hugged. The women connected in the kitchen before saying goodbye.
The toddler girl felt my hair as I carried her around. Her name was Taneisha or "Nana". Beautiful child!
I came home. My son and I prayed. My husband and I talked.
The glow lingers, and I still tug.
Here's a good word from this morning for this life:
When I said, 'My foot is slipping,'
your love, O Lord, supported me.
When anxiety was great wtihin me,
your consolation brought joy to my soul.