“I love me. Because I was shaped by mercy, softened by storms, and given breath to praise. Our thoughts? They’re not just thoughts—they’re offerings.”
~marty
Sweet. So grown up with the innocence of young.
I’ve aged, sure. I’ve learned boundaries, buried pride, and stood my ground in love.
But somehow—I still look for shapes in clouds.
I still tear up at Mass.
I still believe in the power of holding hands, whispering prayers, and saying,
“I’m proud of you.”
May I never outgrow wonder.
~marty
