Something about the perfectly still leaves above me this evening. It’s a late night for yellow dog and me. I brought her home from the pound four months ago as a therapy dog. Not for me.
Count them and you will be counting joy where you thought there was none.”
(ref. James 1:2)
(ref. Psalm 30:4)
And it is kind soul therapy for me. Simply that. The moon is kind light in darkness. The squeezing is kind. Heart hanging out to dry, sun cast shadow, quilt, frame.
He is answering my prayer. Framing light. Stitching light. Cross and quilt. And, yes, even yellow therapy dog. For me after all.