Tonight, I stand in awe of the pure love of a Father. I remember as a young child, riding my bike through my neighborhood and turning a corner much sharper than what my young eyes could foretell.  Naturally,  I tore the flesh at my knee and raced home as quickly as my panicked legs could travel. My vision clouded from tears, I cried out for my daddy upon my front door entry, and he carried me up the stairs. I was placed on the bathroom counter, where my doctor completed the surgery of Neosporin and a bandaid.  My dad can fix anything.

I can only wonder if this is the very image of myself and my Heavenly Father, and how He ever so tenderly fixes all of my bumps and bruises. Perhaps for some, He rarely gets offered the role of Daddy Doctor.. Because our humanity is much too strong to ever go running in tears towards the best fixer upper. But, I am so thankful and hope to forever remain ready to be picked up, brushed off, made steady, and loved on. Because my Dad can fix anything.

Anew

As my chapter in Bamako has ended, I have decided (with the nudging of a dear friend) to continue my "Now Starts Mali" blog with some minor changes, of course. I am embracing new seasons, new experiences, and new adventures. So much is to come, and I simply want to be able to share all that the Lord is doing in my life. So here's to travel, people, culture, and the journey ahead.