This is my story; a strange and sanctified twist of the already arrived and the not-yet-but-I’m-coming. What I’ve mainly learned about myself can be summarized in five words (oddly enough, the number most often identified in the New Testament with grace). Ihave learned am learning that
“I am not the Christ” (John 1:19-20)
What remains is an eclectic collection of paradoxes, ironies, and awkward twists of tonal diversity (thrown in, just for fun). By His grace and I am a:
child of the living God (John 1:12-13)
sinner redeemed by the blood of Christ (Ephesians 2:4-10)
book lovervoracious reader I read or I die
lover of theology, rainy days and a cup pots of hot coffee,
consummate techie with a zest for wannabe photography
seminary student with a penchant for (loving) debate
companion of broken things and wounded hearts
I am a wife and mother — a twice-failed Martha often found quailing at the base of Mount Washmore, clinging to the patchwork grace woven for me from before the foundation of the world (Romans 8:28-30, Ephesians 1:3–10, 2 Timothy 1:9).
In short, I am a Sinner, a scholar; a sometime blogger living in the shadowlands, somewhere between doubt and doxology.
Sitting along the Gulf, I let the ocean spray and the afternoon…