He sits silent, nervously plucking the frayed threads on the arm-rest of the chair across from my desk, and I think of torn hearts and how he’s grasping at only strings, trying to piece his back together.
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“Well,” he says slowly, “I guess we’re getting a divorce.”
The words hang hopeless between us, and I look at him. Misty eyes meet misty eyes, and together, we know this isn’t how the story is suppose to end; how five years ago at his wedding, everyone smiled and only thought of happily ever after.
It is with great honor, I am writing this story for The High Calling. Will you please join me over there for the rest of the story? Oh, and just so you know… the comment box is always open over there, so I’ll be commenting back to readers today. Have a great day, dear ones.
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Enter the quietness…
Sit with me here.
In silence, our hearts slow their beating and our hands join together in praise to the Father; a communion of friends just breathing in and out… breathing Him.
I am so thankful you stopped by to sit awhile with me. You’ll notice there is no comment box below. To find out why, please read my reasons here.
And just so you know, you’re always welcome to send me an email. Since I share my story with you, maybe you'll consider sharing part of your story with me? I'd love that.
And further, if you’d like, you can enter your email address in the sidebar to the right to receive further posts sent directly to your inbox. (No spam, I promise.)
In Him… Always for Him,
Duane Scott
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