It was hard to see the scars that ran across her forearms, because I knew she always wore her heart on her sleeve.  But those scars paint the picture of depression and pain, ones that she’s struggled with, but more importantly, that she persevered through.  And no matter how cut up or broken her heart was, it is still beating and ready to love with open arms, with reckless vulnerability, with courage and trust.  Remember that when she lets you hold her in your arms, you hold her heart in your hands too.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s