I would not trade my years for youth.
I carry troubles as tools, know struggles as my Refiner.
I draw Water from the Rock and carry Love in my pocket!
Traveling Through
I would not trade my years for youth.
I carry troubles as tools, know struggles as my Refiner.
I draw Water from the Rock and carry Love in my pocket!
Not According to Plan 
Such powerful truths in a few words, Deb. Thank you! Love and hugs!
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Deb, I have run out of words to express how much I love your writing. This is so wonderful. You express how I feel about this season in my life perfectly. My only wish is that I had a few less physical signs of age. š Otherwise, there is nothing appealing to me about being young … I’m content where I am. š But of course, you’ve expressed that by far more eloquently than I ever could! Love you, dear friend! ā¤ ā¤ ā¤ ā¤ ā¤
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…
For the water,
the direction remains the same,
rhumb to sea,
while your dust dissolves.
Different from the storms with rain,
lightning, and thunder, which animates him;
his internal storms,
although still anguish him,
no longer more paralyze him.
And that console him.
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Wow Carlos, so beautiful. He never changes, we are ever changing and ever loved.
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this is me š
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