a woman’s worth

The value of a woman is not measured in how many cows you pay for her,
Nor is it measured by  how many children she will birth,
It is certainly not measured on a scale like you weigh a choice piece of meat at the butcher,
the value of a woman is not measured in her figure and shape or ratio of her waist to hips,
Nor is it measured in her equality to man
The value of a woman is priceless….
Measured in currency more valuable than gold…
The value of a woman is measured in the same way you measure the worth of any man of worth..
In the depth and goodness of the soul beneath…..

*work in progress*

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the bubble that is me

our lives are just like bubbles,

blown into being,

our Maker like that kid with the bubble wand and bubble foam,

blowing life into bubbles,

and watching them ,

flit, float and like all bubbles eventually pop,

even the most beautiful, which catch the sunlite and sparkle with a rainbow inside a delite to watch,

they still burst,

some grow big and pop before they even leave the wand,

some fall too fast and reach the ground before He can reach them,

others are just the right size and they float heavenwards, or hang in the air and can be plucked right out like ripe fruit,

once popped the bubble may leave a mark,

some large ones others small wet spots,

but eventually it evaporates and fades away,

each bubble unique,

each with a special characteristic,

and each with its own path to travel in a seemingly random motion,

but blown to the direction of the invisible creator’s breath.

float dear bubble float