Claire and a hen named Bob
To those of you who know how much I wanted chickens when we moved out to the country:
No. Bob is not ours. We're sad. No chickens allowed in our neighborhood.
Why share such a personal story ? I share it because I have talked to enough women to know that underneath the makeup and the matching outfits and the small talk that make up our exteriors, we are a broken people. To pretend otherwise creates isolation. Thoughtful honesty creates closer relationships and greater understanding. When we share the way God works in the difficult things of life it encourages first oneself and then others. For some of us, the pieces have been patched and restored and there is wholeness where there was none before. But some of us are walking wounded, barely hanging on and wondering if there is hope. We have a choice. We can either be completely shattered by bitterness, depression and anger or we can lay the fragments before the One who can take the sharp slivers and jagged pieces and create a beautiful, productive life. Here is the conclusion to John's story. When John was ten, he was sullen and moody and difficult and so was I. But I was no longer proud.
Comments
What a wonderful pictures!
Adorable!
Happy WW!
Anyway...I enjoyed the picture. Thanks for sharing it.
Love ya!
Ang :)
What a lucky chicken. *grin*
This is my first WW..I'm enjoying finding blogs like yours!
not in my neighborhood either!!