I love old, rusty abandoned trucks overgrown with weeds and wildflowers.
I love weathered, broken fences, rusty, galvanized buckets, cast iron pots and pans, and vintage bowls.
I love dirt roads, streams in the woods, bullfrogs and tadpoles.
I love fireflies, and salamanders and a swing hanging from a tree limb.
I love classical music.
I love joking and cutting up.
I love plain and simple people.
I love honesty and truth.
I love talking and listening.
I love sitting outside in the dark.
I love hearing it rain.
I love mountains and hills and valleys.
I love God, the Great Creator of all the things that I love.
Published by Sandi Staton
So, I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to describe myself to you, and these are the words jumping up and down in my heart: I'm just a simple human being living in a complicated, messed-up world. I speak my mind. I love hard. My feelings run deep. When push comes to shove, I stand my ground. Sometimes I push back. Sometimes I walk away. I've surfed the crashing waves of life that threatened to destroy me only to make me stronger. I bear the scars of emotional rape, sadness, and depression. I've walked the golden streets of churches and religion only to be disappointed time and time again. And as a result, it's taken me seventy-five years to get where I'm sitting today; a sinner saved by grace through the blood of Jesus Christ. I fell at the cross. I repented of my sins, and Jesus saved and washed me clean. I still fall flat on my face. I still get dirty as a pig in a mudhole. And Jesus still picks me up, dries my tears, forgives me again and again, and continues walking close beside me. No one has ever loved me like that. And no one ever will.
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