She is from God’s world -- a direct disciple, I think, sent down to brighten our lives and teach us of higher things. To me she is beauty itself—the word came after her presence. Each time she smiles, I can only cry, and I think of something I read about the sadness of beauty: just to find it is not hard, but to bear it, that is impossible. If she were totally aware of the beauty she was creating, she would stop in awe of herself. She somehow makes life so much more than it is.
The firefly flickers of God's grace are enough to embrace the unknown. A surge of powerful surrender takes over all my looking back, and ever so gently and hopefully I risk the road of another new year.
