/page/2
Let them know that without the burden of afflictions it is impossible to reach the height of grace.
Let them know that the gifts of grace increase as the struggles increase.
St. Rose of Lima (via catholicsoul)
littlethingsaboutgod:

Not my will but yours…I’m no longer afraid.

littlethingsaboutgod:

Not my will but yours…I’m no longer afraid.

(Source: brokenbeforehim, via jiuliaxocampo)

But I have seen the best of you and the worst of you, and I choose both.
Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye, “An Origin Story”  (via saputnik)

(Source: larmoyante, via fearlessly-fickle)

I have been bent and broken, but — I hope — into a better shape.

– Charles Dickens, Great Expectations (via see-whereweland)

(Source: wrists, via sweetandlovelygirl7)

People say I love you all the time - when they say, ‘take an umbrella, it’s raining,’ or ‘hurry back,’ or even ‘watch out, you’ll break your neck.’ There are hundreds of ways of wording it - you just have to listen for it, my dear.
– The Curious Savage (John Patrick)

(Source: quotesilyke, via crusadermaximus)

In my deepest wound I saw Your glory, and it astounded me.
– St Augustine (via godmoves)

(Source: shaktilover, via etverbumcarofactumest)

thunderpopcola:

This is how you lose her. 
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.
You must remember when she forgets. 
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention. 
She remembers when you forget. 
You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the  beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.
You must learn her. 
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. 
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her. 

thunderpopcola:

This is how you lose her. 

You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.

You must remember when she forgets. 

You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.

She remembers when you forget. 

You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the  beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.

You must learn her. 

You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. 

You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.

And, this is how you keep her. 

(via truthbetoldx311)

'My sweet prince,'
you called me—
your eyes alight with
Once Upon A Time,

and Ever After
rested
so easily
on your tongue
that I was sure
your kiss
would wake me.

We both learned,
however,
that some dragons
can’t be slain.

Sometimes, I sit alone under the stars
and think of the galaxies inside my
heart, and truly wonder if anyone will
ever want to make sense of all that
I am.

I don’t listen to music in the car anymore.
I listen to poetry so loud that the speakers
bump bump bump at all of the saddest parts.
today I saw a taxi driver cry as he checked his mail
and I wanted to stop to tell him somedays
I can’t walk outside without crying either
and somedays I feel like all I am is a taxi driver,
escorting old loves to their true destiny.

the day you left I wiped my tears on a white washcloth
and my mother kept it in her hope chest so one day she can say,
“this. remember this. remember how far you’ve come.”
darling I’ll never forget.
because sometimes I write about how you broke my heart
but I really think I am writing about how I broke my own heart.

I’m not angry at you.
I remember the years, the days, the nights
that we danced by the water under the moonlight.
but I missed you when I was next to you
and I missed you when you were in the other room
and we tried so hard to make these plans hold firm.

I know you tried to keep a grip on reality
but some mornings the birds forget to sing
and the sun has to be reminded to rise and fall.
we set our clocks forward and back to make up for the days
the sun sleeps in or stays out past curfew
and darling our sun may have set
but I still feel the burn on my back.
I still feel the burn on my back.

I hope my moonlight catches your eye as you’re driving at night
and I hope your sun shines so bright on a new love.
I hope you found a way to keep your tires from always popping
and I hope you found a way to get better rest.
I hope the books on your shelf still excite you
and when you hear that song, I hope you think of me and smile.
but mostly, I hope you make yourself proud.

because you weren’t proud of yourself
as you tucked me in all those nights.
maybe because we ran into love full force.
and I’m afraid a love like ours is a one-shot kinda thing
but we fucked it up somewhere between casseroles
and planning a wedding that I forgot to invite myself to.

after all those years together
I can’t remember how your voice sounded saying my name.
somedays I wish I never met you,
just so I could meet you tomorrow.

I wish I didn’t grow old with you so young.

I wish I could have saved you for later.

some mornings the birds forget to sing and the sun has to be reminded to rise and fall. we set our clocks forward and back to make up for the days the sun sleeps in or stays out past curfew and darling our sun may have set but I still feel the burn on my back -dah (via whisperingbones)

(Source: weheartit.com, via tblaberge)

Let them know that without the burden of afflictions it is impossible to reach the height of grace.
Let them know that the gifts of grace increase as the struggles increase.
St. Rose of Lima (via catholicsoul)
tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #813 by Tyler Knott Gregson

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #813 by Tyler Knott Gregson

(Source: worshipgifs, via dinosrawr)

littlethingsaboutgod:

Not my will but yours…I’m no longer afraid.

littlethingsaboutgod:

Not my will but yours…I’m no longer afraid.

(Source: brokenbeforehim, via jiuliaxocampo)

But I have seen the best of you and the worst of you, and I choose both.
Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye, “An Origin Story”  (via saputnik)

(Source: larmoyante, via fearlessly-fickle)

I have been bent and broken, but — I hope — into a better shape.

– Charles Dickens, Great Expectations (via see-whereweland)

(Source: wrists, via sweetandlovelygirl7)

People say I love you all the time - when they say, ‘take an umbrella, it’s raining,’ or ‘hurry back,’ or even ‘watch out, you’ll break your neck.’ There are hundreds of ways of wording it - you just have to listen for it, my dear.
– The Curious Savage (John Patrick)

(Source: quotesilyke, via crusadermaximus)

(Source: kissedbyflames, via ajcueva)

In my deepest wound I saw Your glory, and it astounded me.
– St Augustine (via godmoves)

(Source: shaktilover, via etverbumcarofactumest)

thunderpopcola:

This is how you lose her. 
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.
You must remember when she forgets. 
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention. 
She remembers when you forget. 
You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the  beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.
You must learn her. 
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. 
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her. 

thunderpopcola:

This is how you lose her. 

You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.

You must remember when she forgets. 

You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.

She remembers when you forget. 

You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the  beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.

You must learn her. 

You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. 

You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.

And, this is how you keep her. 

(via truthbetoldx311)

'My sweet prince,'
you called me—
your eyes alight with
Once Upon A Time,

and Ever After
rested
so easily
on your tongue
that I was sure
your kiss
would wake me.

We both learned,
however,
that some dragons
can’t be slain.

Sometimes, I sit alone under the stars
and think of the galaxies inside my
heart, and truly wonder if anyone will
ever want to make sense of all that
I am.

I don’t listen to music in the car anymore.
I listen to poetry so loud that the speakers
bump bump bump at all of the saddest parts.
today I saw a taxi driver cry as he checked his mail
and I wanted to stop to tell him somedays
I can’t walk outside without crying either
and somedays I feel like all I am is a taxi driver,
escorting old loves to their true destiny.

the day you left I wiped my tears on a white washcloth
and my mother kept it in her hope chest so one day she can say,
“this. remember this. remember how far you’ve come.”
darling I’ll never forget.
because sometimes I write about how you broke my heart
but I really think I am writing about how I broke my own heart.

I’m not angry at you.
I remember the years, the days, the nights
that we danced by the water under the moonlight.
but I missed you when I was next to you
and I missed you when you were in the other room
and we tried so hard to make these plans hold firm.

I know you tried to keep a grip on reality
but some mornings the birds forget to sing
and the sun has to be reminded to rise and fall.
we set our clocks forward and back to make up for the days
the sun sleeps in or stays out past curfew
and darling our sun may have set
but I still feel the burn on my back.
I still feel the burn on my back.

I hope my moonlight catches your eye as you’re driving at night
and I hope your sun shines so bright on a new love.
I hope you found a way to keep your tires from always popping
and I hope you found a way to get better rest.
I hope the books on your shelf still excite you
and when you hear that song, I hope you think of me and smile.
but mostly, I hope you make yourself proud.

because you weren’t proud of yourself
as you tucked me in all those nights.
maybe because we ran into love full force.
and I’m afraid a love like ours is a one-shot kinda thing
but we fucked it up somewhere between casseroles
and planning a wedding that I forgot to invite myself to.

after all those years together
I can’t remember how your voice sounded saying my name.
somedays I wish I never met you,
just so I could meet you tomorrow.

I wish I didn’t grow old with you so young.

I wish I could have saved you for later.

some mornings the birds forget to sing and the sun has to be reminded to rise and fall. we set our clocks forward and back to make up for the days the sun sleeps in or stays out past curfew and darling our sun may have set but I still feel the burn on my back -dah (via whisperingbones)
"Let them know that without the burden of afflictions it is impossible to reach the height of grace.
Let them know that the gifts of grace increase as the struggles increase."
"But I have seen the best of you and the worst of you, and I choose both."
"

I have been bent and broken, but — I hope — into a better shape.

"
"People say I love you all the time - when they say, ‘take an umbrella, it’s raining,’ or ‘hurry back,’ or even ‘watch out, you’ll break your neck.’ There are hundreds of ways of wording it - you just have to listen for it, my dear."
"In my deepest wound I saw Your glory, and it astounded me."
"

'My sweet prince,'
you called me—
your eyes alight with
Once Upon A Time,

and Ever After
rested
so easily
on your tongue
that I was sure
your kiss
would wake me.

We both learned,
however,
that some dragons
can’t be slain.

"
"Sometimes, I sit alone under the stars
and think of the galaxies inside my
heart, and truly wonder if anyone will
ever want to make sense of all that
I am."
"

I don’t listen to music in the car anymore.
I listen to poetry so loud that the speakers
bump bump bump at all of the saddest parts.
today I saw a taxi driver cry as he checked his mail
and I wanted to stop to tell him somedays
I can’t walk outside without crying either
and somedays I feel like all I am is a taxi driver,
escorting old loves to their true destiny.

the day you left I wiped my tears on a white washcloth
and my mother kept it in her hope chest so one day she can say,
“this. remember this. remember how far you’ve come.”
darling I’ll never forget.
because sometimes I write about how you broke my heart
but I really think I am writing about how I broke my own heart.

I’m not angry at you.
I remember the years, the days, the nights
that we danced by the water under the moonlight.
but I missed you when I was next to you
and I missed you when you were in the other room
and we tried so hard to make these plans hold firm.

I know you tried to keep a grip on reality
but some mornings the birds forget to sing
and the sun has to be reminded to rise and fall.
we set our clocks forward and back to make up for the days
the sun sleeps in or stays out past curfew
and darling our sun may have set
but I still feel the burn on my back.
I still feel the burn on my back.

I hope my moonlight catches your eye as you’re driving at night
and I hope your sun shines so bright on a new love.
I hope you found a way to keep your tires from always popping
and I hope you found a way to get better rest.
I hope the books on your shelf still excite you
and when you hear that song, I hope you think of me and smile.
but mostly, I hope you make yourself proud.

because you weren’t proud of yourself
as you tucked me in all those nights.
maybe because we ran into love full force.
and I’m afraid a love like ours is a one-shot kinda thing
but we fucked it up somewhere between casseroles
and planning a wedding that I forgot to invite myself to.

after all those years together
I can’t remember how your voice sounded saying my name.
somedays I wish I never met you,
just so I could meet you tomorrow.

I wish I didn’t grow old with you so young.

I wish I could have saved you for later.

"

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