The Sunglasses of Surrender
Broken vessels. Filled with oil. Mended with gold. She Said: Iāve been carrying a picture with me for a few weeks now. An altar. Not one built from stone, but the kind you build from a lifetime of trying to trust God. For a long time, I called it what I thought it was: an altar of sacrifice. But something never quite sat right about that name. Sacrifice means something is taken from me.ā¦














