My tears streamed along with the rain this morning and yet I was overjoyed with the freshness and release of it all as I carried a wounded heart. The influence of Margaret and the presence of God comforted me. I had said to a friend last evening that I had, "missed Margaret." I want to live as she did, focused and secure that God would always be with her when the world rejected her. For a few brief moments, I get to embody those things.
Scents of fall and flowers seemed to rise from the pavement and it brought about a nostalgia, reminding me of school days. Some sense and excitement of the unkown, or even best to come, swirls about me unseen but felt. I'm anxious to step upon the stage this final weekend as a service to the people who hear the message of the story and as a reminder to myself where my life lies.