ann kiemel

back
on the couch.
cast off. big, black boot
as replacement.
an ugg on my "good" foot.
ouch again and again.

i was prepared to fly.
immediate decrease of
pain. moving forward.
wrong. so wrong. just like
so many things we take on in
life. for the most part, the
journey is so much more costly
than we expect. my friend,
natalia, says...

"when you are in the middle of
hell, keep walking." i just have
to let God and time heal my feet.
and plow my way through.

colson called. on his bike.
flying down the streets of
dallas, en route to the mcdonald's
he manages. i thought it was
his daily call to tell me he loves
me.

"mom, i need your input.
i had to fire two employees
yesterday. i feel troubled. the
first lady had to go, but i know
i could have done better the
second time around."

i listened. quiet. still.
i love this son of mine. he
is honest. pure in the core.

he is going through a divorce.
that is shattering. he's been
homeless. the toughest love
a mother can dish out. last
year, two men walked up to
him and put their guns to his
head. rather than shoot him,
they pistol-whipped him.

we tell you our stories as a family
so you can know our journey is
"common to man." colson is
gifted. he is as hard a worker
as they come. and he utterly
gets Jesus. as a family, we
pooled our money and flew
him to dallas to live by brock.
in two days, he had a job. in a
couple months, he had his own
apartment.

"mom, i pray every day on my
way to work. please pray for
me."

i gave him a few thoughts.
some insight. prayed with
him, and reminded him he was
my treasure.

may Jesus be glorified in
all our tireless journeys. songs
in the night.