Picket Fence Promises. Kathryn Springer
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started out beautiful, so maybe that was the secret.
And though my parents had done their best to shake me off our branch of the family tree, there was no denying that I was their child. A mixed-up concoction of Strums and Corbins that ended up with me looking like the final product of a potluck casserole. My insecurities saw an opportunity and came rushing back but at the moment I was too tired to fight them off. I collapsed onto the sofa and felt something crinkle underneath me. One of my three-by-five cards.
I love you, O Lord, my strength.
The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
My God is my rock in whom I take refuge.
My strength. My fortress. I wasn’t in this alone. The thought bloomed inside of me. Esther was right. He was the one I needed to run to. And Alex was wrong. He thought I was backed into a corner, but actually I’d taken refuge in the one who’d created me. Ha.
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