I sat in the balcony, eyes fixed on a woman lovingly but firmly speaking truth into a teenager’s life.

The teenager seemed quiet, a bit of a loner, and in need of someone like her who was willing to take the time to sit beside him, get beyond the How are you? surface-type questions and listen. Really listen. How inspiring! But it’s the woman’s identity that serves as the catalyst for today’s post. Remember this story?

It was Dave’s mother who served as the hands and feet of Christ to the young man today. There before me was a woman swimming in her own grief over the recent loss of a son offering a life-vest buoyed by hope to a young man in need. She had not allowed circumstances to immobilize her—or the opportunities given by God to encourage and strengthen others.

I respect the fact that everyone grieves differently, but her depth of faith spoke with such volume today it nearly required headphones.

Photo courtesy of life123.com
Tiny House on the Hill

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