This place is like spaghetti. It’s messy and colourful and alive and knows how to mould around sharp edges, how to fall around all kinds of shapes and sizes, settling quietly around any awkward form.
This place is all things bright and beautiful where the people are bold and bright and vibrant; loud laughter and no filter, exactly how they were created to be.
This place knows how to love. How to love the things that don’t fit, that don’t squeeze into neat boxes with square sides and sharp corners. The things that can’t be shoe-horned into convention fit in here, are made at home here, are welcomed right into the middle here.
The people here know how to love with strong love. That when family falls apart and does not go as expected, they know how to move and love and create family in a different way, always finding a way.
Jesus, You knew where You were bringing me. I had no idea what I needed, where I belonged. But You told me three years ago that You knew where I belonged and that You were carving out spaces for me. And now You have brought me to this place; where the physical space around me might be smaller, but my horizons are suddenly blown wide open with light and colour, split apart with laughter and joy and hope. And people who have said that I am one of them now.
And this place looks like You. It looks like a Father who takes me as I am, no matter what I look like. Like a Father who knows how to work around fall-aparts, always finding another way, always finding another way. A Father who brings me all the closer in the hard times, in the hard places, with no sense of disappointment, only fierce protection and love, because I am His. I belong to Him. Only to Him.