Shattered Reflections

Beauty from the Broken

“Crightooon?” Her sing-song lilt warms me inside, though a cool autumn fog gathers around my squatting form. I like it when she says my name like there is no one she’d rather play with, but it’s probably not that. My sister Chay probably sent her after me. And Mother no doubt sent Chay. Supper time …

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The blue-green of his eyes reflect the agitated waves, which reflect the churning sky. Reflection upon reflection. An imitation of origination. See, the storm only mirrors—and that, dimly—the raging paradox of beauty and fury that composes his identity. I see it in his eyes, in the swirling colors. And when he laughs, the sound breaks …

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I don’t know how long I had been running when my mind hit a wall. I no longer understood why my feet still carried me forward. It was futile. Where was I going? There was no end—no goal—in sight. So what was I running towards? Not only that, but it dawned on me that I …

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“If you want it, come and get it, for crying out loud. This love that He has given you was never in doubt. Let go of your heart, let go of your head, and feel Him now…” From I Love Your Presence, Jenn Johnson It’s dark in here. All I feel is cold and tense. …

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