I didn’t know her, but the vulnerable thoughts she’d penned pierced my heart. I realized where I was stuck. I was stuck in jealousy–wanting the childhood she had. Wanting. Wishing. But, not having. She spoke of jealousy, but what I heard in those words? Grief....
Long my imprisoned spirit lay, Fast bound in sin and nature’s night; Thine eye diffused a quickening ray— I woke, the dungeon flamed with light; My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed Thee. -Charles Wesley...