Blog | The Grace Between

Prepare Him Room: Making Space

Somewhere around the beginning of December every year, my family would drive to Clarksville, Georgia, and cut down our Christmas tree. Even now I can close my eyes and draw you an exact map of Purcell’s Christmas Tree Farm, from the garage where we sweet-talked...

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rain on glass
Tongue Tied

Tongue Tied

I rarely find myself without words. Ask my husband. And yet, here I am, staring at the screen like I have so many times before, aching to tell you what’s on my heart with no idea how to say it. The last time I wrote here was June, four months late on a birthday...

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On Survivor’s Guilt.

On Survivor’s Guilt.

I feel a little bit brittle today. It’s been all week, really. We lost another friend, a soldier, to suicide last weekend. We have other friends, many other friends, who’ve fought this particular battle and lived, but no one ever escapes this one unscathed. I...

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love, marriage, choice, strong marriage
I CHOOSE YOU

I CHOOSE YOU

(A letter to my love, on Valentine's Day, but this could be any day." To my love, When I stood up in front of the ones who love us, just shy of fourteen years and a whole lot of memories ago, and said “I choose you,” - well, I meant it. But what I didn’t know, all...

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Hello World

Hello World

(I wrote this not quite a year ago as we were prepping for our move to Texas, and just found the draft. It feels appropriate to post it here when my anxiety flares and lately the world feels more terrifying and less beautiful) (June, 2018). Hello world. I watched a...

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On Roots and Wings …

On Roots and Wings …

My oldest daughter is 11 now, halfway through the first year of middle school and sprouting her baby wings. If I’m being honest, it’s terrifying. I was meditating on that when I started a Bible study on Genesis (through my church) and we discussed how Moses wrote...

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roots, community, friendship
On Cultivating Roots

On Cultivating Roots

The bus stop crew was a haphazard gaggle of suburban stereotypes who never failed to defy them. In a modern twist, I was often outnumbered by the dads, bundling their kiddos off to school while mom was at work. The coffee was universal though. Big silver tumblers...

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… A slash can show a line break in a poem, a song or a play. This blog? This is my song, my story. And grace shot through the broken lines of it at every turn. At the heart of it, I am a story-teller. And in the telling of my story, perhaps you’ll find healing for yours.

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COPYRIGHT

© Molly Huggins and The Grace Between, [2010-2018]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Molly Huggins and The Grace Between with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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