My husband prays for our lost son every morning. It’s like his thing.
You might know this: we have prodigal son.
I think about him every day.
Wake up hurting over his rejection every morning.
I grew up knowing this story from the Bible.
I never thought about what the prodigal mom must have been feeling.
I don’t want to get all mushy here. Life goes on.
As my hubby reminds me often: we have four other kids who are still here. True. And this grief has been life shaping for all of us.
His siblings miss him too.
I also never thought of that (prodigal’s siblings), growing up with this story told in Sunday school.
It’s like he died, you guys.
Whew that hurts! Reboot my heart.
I still have
summer rain. Jesus send us some for the fires. Send us some for our broken hearts.
Play dough. Esp red play dough. The salty smell. Nothing like it. Opening a new perfect can. Remember?
Bread dough, which is play dough for grown ups.
Trying a new recipe. Yesterday I made lemon bars.
“Love Punch” with Emma Thompson and Pierce Brosnan. Love that movie. Seen it four times. Highly recommended.
Help us Jesus. It’s hard down here sometimes. 🌻
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