Beautiful...

What beautiful looks like from within...inside her dwelling place.

Hands clasped grasping onto hope from which cries are received.

Image from within reflected to the wanderers. Her very heart hidden from wanderers only to clearly become unveiled from her close knits.

She calls on Him down on her knees. Broken but a mess, lifts her tender spirit, does He. These are the quiet solitude moments of her life. Withheld from everyone; though grace withheld from no one. 

Unapologetic counsel, written upon thinnest of paper, cleaving to her heart does she. Forgiving love...scrolls beneath her well worn finger tips. Her breath is light while the heart beating from inside is heavy. She lays her burdens before His feet. Accepting is He, as grace is ever poured out.

Bowed acoustic in silence...lines time drawn on her face imprints stories told to Him from her own pathway. These hands are more than mere hands. 

Her hiding place. Place found in moments of despair. In time of triumph. In chaos engrossed with milk flowing down the table; in piles of unwashed laundry. Under the roof encased with shouting, tempers flailing and feelings tossed aside. When all else seem hindered and endless~ does she fall to her crumb laden floor. Hands find each other. Fingers weaved. Head bowed low. This is where she meets her Hiding Place. 

Amid each day kindly passing by she reaches. Holding on to each time stolen moment given way to days going by. Her days are brief. Her close knits moving through this life at rapid pace. She dreams of forever. She cleaves to now.

In her season of dry, she enables her sufferings. Giving way to her Father who watches with eyes drawn teary for He indeed loves her amid all short comings. Blood runs clear into serenity. All is well. 

Her close knits call her mother. He calls her lovely. They call her friend. Never alone is she.

His words pressed upon her heart. Abiding in His love. Sharing his grace.

For even in the coldest of days does her presence exhume the most of warmth. For even cruelty and loss cannot separate her from the sun in which shines through her heart.

May these days of fallen arise and carry you into today. Live today.

Looking through the dreary toward His road laid brick by stone for you.

There is hope. There is peace. There is life.

             

                                                                         ~Juleianna