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Pumpkin. I love it for months at a time, and then I forget about it. The cans sit on the shelf and I don’t even see them. Until fall comes around and I remember.

And that’s really OK. There are no rule about pumpkin consumption, and how often one should or should not eat it.

But friends are not like pumpkins. True friends let you hold their hearts in your hand. And hearts are fragile. Like that new born baby bird that I found under my window seal the other day.

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I held the bird in my hand, but I pictured my friend, the one whose struggle pains me, the one whose struggle scares me and causes me to stay away for fear of doing the wrong thing, or because I don’t know what to say at all. The one whose delicate heart is raw, and tired, and bleeding.

I held the bird in my hand, but I saw my friend’s heart. The one she trusted me with. The one she let me hold. The one whose tender beat I felt.

And for the very first time, I see. I see that my indifference can slow that very beat until it’s hardly there, or the wrongly applied pressure of silence can constrict the flow of blood and oxygen, rendering the heart so weak, or sick, exhausted. Unfit for the war that rages all around.

And disconnected hearts shrivel up until they lose their fight.

Never again.

Cultivating Thankfulness with Ann Voskamp

#398 A warm, fuzzy, soft sweatshirt

#397 Belgian chocolate that I found in my cupboard

#396 God telling me to tender to my friendships

#395 A strong hug from a friend

Sometimes, I link up with any or all of these wonderful writers: Hearts 4 HomeSDG,  Hearts Reflected, WLW, EOA, Things I can’t say, Growing HomePlay Dates with GodMonday Musings, Hear it on SundayInspire Me Monday, Tell me a Story, The Better Mom, a Mama’s StoryInto the WordIn and Around Mondays,OYHT, Gratituesday, Titus2Tuesdays, ExtraordinayLessons from IvyDenise in BloomSweet BlessingsFaith Filled Friday, Finding Joy, Simply Helping Him, Things I can’t say

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