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Tonight the wind blows briskly as a woman cries and children run beneath blue skies filled with wispy clouds. Far from home, a pastor prays, consoles those mourning while innocent souls, free of concern, skip forward. The rain-fed grass tickles my feet, the smell of wet cedar scents the air as I step beneath the setting sun rejoicing my children can sing, praying as my husband counsels, and grieving for my friend’s loss. God, so near in this moment, sees all my cares, knows I’m here, between it all. He is here, we are held.

For further meditation: Ecclesiastes 3

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