“Everyone has their own bag of rocks.”
…you’ve heard the phrase.
The bag is filled with their sorrow, their pain.
My grandmother said:
“If one night God brought you into the room
where He keeps everyone’s bag of rocks…
and let you set your bag down
and peek into all the other bags…
You’d say:
“Give me back my bag, please.”
So many people carrying such a heavy load.
But what if we “re-framed” those rocks?
What if we carved into them the things we wanted?