Before I was a slave, I didn't even care about myself.
alec vanderboom
I just about fainted in Borders this afternoon when I read this quote on the back of a book jacket of a biography of St. Patrick:
"Believe me, I didn't go to Ireland willing the first time-- I almost died there. But it turned out to be good for me in the end, because God used the time to shape and mold me into something better. He made me into what I am now- someone very different from what I once was, someone who can care about others and work to help them. Before I was a slave, I didn't even care about myself."
(Phillip Freeman, St. Patrick of Ireland, Simon & Schuster, 2004).
Does that blow your mind open? I couldn't believe that a stranger could so totally get my NICU experience. . .my infertility wait... my miscarriage. The mystery of suffering beside our friend Jesus Christ is a deep and beautiful one.
"Believe me, I didn't go to Ireland willing the first time-- I almost died there. But it turned out to be good for me in the end, because God used the time to shape and mold me into something better. He made me into what I am now- someone very different from what I once was, someone who can care about others and work to help them. Before I was a slave, I didn't even care about myself."
(Phillip Freeman, St. Patrick of Ireland, Simon & Schuster, 2004).
Does that blow your mind open? I couldn't believe that a stranger could so totally get my NICU experience. . .my infertility wait... my miscarriage. The mystery of suffering beside our friend Jesus Christ is a deep and beautiful one.