Sometimes, without any warning, my heart melts. Inexplicably. It pulsates, it moves, it grows wild. And none of my reasoning can stand against it. By all accounts, this world is a hard place—full of hard people and hard things. But I find I can't stop hoping in it...even when I want to. The truth is I've seen too much good, been dusted off too often, been held too genuinely, been sacrificed for one too many times to pretend that things like Love and beauty and refuge don't exist.
I find that's Grace. And as terribly inconvenient as it may be, may I forever burst at the seams with it.
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