The in-betweening is most difficult space to occupy – that place of not-rich-not-poor that is lived in fear – in fear of fear even. Because in the in-between the hunger is not for want of food, but for that which is just-above, just a whisper of breath beyond the fingertips that one cannot quite hook a finger on. And no matter how comfortably set, the just-above is eternally just there: above. Enter the space of sheer silence and know the presence of God who is deafeningly within reach.
Three is a holy number, and this Father’s Day I am reminded of blessings that have come to me in 3s. I am privileged to have several amazing men in my life, all equally marvelous fathers. Howard #1: Though my father died when I was 11 years old, it was sufficient time to know the… Continue reading Father’s Day: Blessings in 3s