yesterday, today and tomorrow
Tomorrow, I'm leaving to teach at another women's retreat. That means today, I study. So I can't tell you about the longed-for rain that has finally arrived, or the sound of Dave's armload of firewood hitting the hearth, or the scent of my mulled cider candle burning in the leaf-shaped votive holder I picked up yesterday.
I can't tell you any of that. Today, I study.
Tomorrow, just before I leave for the women's retreat (with Smokey Point Community Church, held up in Sumas, Washington ... just this side of the Canadian border), I'm having my first interview for Inconceivable. It's a half-hour live radio interview with Bob Dukto of Detroit's WMUZ (103.5 fm). If you think about it, pray for me at 1:00 ET; 10:00 PT.
And speaking of Inconceivable, I read a review yesterday over at Can You Hear Me Now? that made me cry. As I told Kim (the reviewer), writing that book was a solitary endeavor. Although I suspected that others shared my experience, I didn't know for certain until I began to receive emails and read these reviews. Kim's words helped me understand a bit better why God asked me to revisit all that pain.
Oh, the pounding of that rain! And you should see the maple leaves fluttering on their long journey from the tops of the maples to the grass below. Wish I had time to write more ...