The Harvest Letters

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Twenty Sixteen.

This year I decided to show up to life. I looked in the mirror and learned to love the reflection a little more. I stopped begging the world for affirmations that God has already given me. I chose joy and light more times than I can count. I laughed at all the funny parts. Sometimes I laughed at the sad parts, too. I stepped aside and allowed God to move mountains.  

This year I failed a lot. I watched a few bridges burn and didn’t do anything to stop them. I stood up ready to speak boldly, but the words came out in stutters. I ran in circles from grace and fell down when I grew tired from all of the running. I slammed on my brakes too many times, afraid to collide with truth.

But I kept showing up in all of my mess, realizing maybe that’s what bravery looks like. I sat in silence with my thoughts and shed layers of fears. I tried on my too-big dreams, which fit better than I remembered. 

This year I dug deep down in my soul, expecting to find a lone girl with broken bones.

Instead, I found an army. 


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