I fail. A lot.
I wake up every morning determined to not fail and by the time I leave the house, I've failed at that.
I'm a failure.
And I wouldn't trade it for the world. In my failure I find grace. In my own loss, I find hope. I couldn't do what I do if I wasn't a failure.
I meet people who are dying. They have come to the end and it's very real. They, by their words, are failures. The first thing I try and tell them...I'm a failure too.
Then we decide to chase death together and find the hand of God at the end. It's beautiful actually.
I love grace.
A little bit of everything from a sometimes frantic mind trying to find peace everyday.
Friday, January 04, 2013
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