It's Friday. It's another five minutes with Gypsy Mama.
Brave feels strong, bold, confident. But most Brave I know, is afraid and quiet being thrust into a situation where if choices were possible, Brave would run.
I've seen Brave.
I've seen it kiss her husband one last time before the casket closed. I've seen it prepare to wed again, in God's timing.
I've seen it stand before hundreds and confess God's goodness and mercy and strength, as her knees were knocking together behind the podium.
I've seen it squeeze my hand so tight I thought a finger might break- when the nurse put the IV in the tiny little hand.
I've seen it nervously talk about the girl who has stolen his heart.
I've seen it enter a courtroom with a pit in the stomach, and sit with anticipation of the judge's ruling. I've seen it leave the same courtroom looking very different for each person affected by his words.
I've seen it look me in the eyes with tears and ask, can we do this another day?
Brave is like a chameleon, taking on the color of the situation. But no matter how scary or difficult the color change, Brave always moves forward.
Happy Friday y'all!