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Held Hostage by My Own Clenched Fists

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash A Night Filled with Hope  I don’t know if everyone has a favorite night of the week. But I suspect that for many who do, it’s Friday. And while I do love Friday nights - a night I never cook, a night without practice so my family eats at a reasonable hour, a night to unwind from the craziness of our week - every few weeks Wednesday competes for that title of “favorite night.” Wednesday is the night I intentionally try to leave open on my calendar. The night I’m happy to ask our “babysitter-turned-driver” to help shuffle my kids from point A to point B. Because Wednesday is the night my Bible Study group meets. We are a group of moms who briefly pause the craziness of our lives every couple weeks to gather for friendship, to draw closer to Jesus, and perhaps to have a glass of wine. And although our busy schedules and this COVID world have prevented many of our recent meetings, it is still a night I look forward to. Because these nights fill me with H

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