an irresistable storm of laughter on the trudge back from post-church(that dear man at the untitled vietnamese restaurant who says i look like his sister must have put a little something something in the broth. we are his favorite customers, after all). i don’t even know what we were talking about. five almost-adults hyperventilating manically about …. hamster reproductivity??? potato eyes.
reading Brontë brings its own amusements– “Happiness is not a potato,” says lucy snowe, and i think she is right.
God knows we are forgetful, and in His artfulness He is pleased to give us motifs and themes. like potato.
too many heartmelts. last night looked up briefly during praise and saw a brother with his arm around his brother’s shoulder–someone included, brought alongside to gaze at Jesus & feel His warmth. AHHHHHHHH.
i am changing / less & less asleep (thank you brooke for always giving me words).
good simple (and very very difficult) qn to keep posing–what is it i love more than my Jesus? take away my false loves, and have mercy on me when the sting inevitably comes