Over the years, Anita and I got things from our children and grandchildren. Pictures, and stuff that sometimes were a challenge to figure out. Some we hung on walls and fridges. And admired them. And they were... perfect.
A strange thing occurs when receiving those things. Because most certainly someone who didn't know our children or grandchildren would wonder at the, perhaps unwarranted in their eyes, perfection of the thing. But when love gets mingled in the mix, the broken, messy, strange, simple thing becomes... perfect.
We got a hand-made shelf from Laura yesterday. It was perfect.
I think God thinks that about us...
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