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Abigail Hayven
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The Colors Of Rain
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published
2023
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2 editions
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the value of your quiet creativity & a goodbye for now post
“Your home is darling,” someone told me a few weeks ago, and I agreed.
Since getting married, I have done little art in the way of writing, which is my ‘normal’ mode. But my home has been my canvas, and the result has been one of my most treasured works yet.
Every square inch of our nest has been thought through, even if there aren’t very many square inches to it. At around 700 square feet, we don’
Read more of this blog post »
Abigail’s Recent Updates
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Abigail Hayven
rated a book it was ok
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| There are methods I agree with in this book, to be sure. I think most ministries/missionaries could benefit from more professionalism and more proactive support raising techniques. But some of his methods seem a bit manipulative to be frank. The book ...more | |
"If you get this book, I highly recommend getting the 4th version or earlier. I had the unpleasant experience of reading the 5th version and it is so soaked in politically correct jargon, it makes it a little hard to read.
The authors refuse to use the" Read more of this review » |
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"I am a missionary who has been living on support for 18 years. Our support raising strategy has always been to communicate our vision to as many people as possible, build relationships, make the need known, and trust God to lead people to partner wit"
Read more of this review »
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Katja Labonté's status update
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“We all have skeletons in our closets, they say. My family included.
But ours hid in the attic, not the closet. They hid among the journals, photos, shoe boxes, wedding dress, and board games.
Ours were tumbling out.
I had to clean up the mess alone—hide the evidence.
If this is what new beginnings looked like, I didn’t want one. If starting over meant facing the ghosts that haunt the past, I wanted to keep the past.
But there was no going back. I knew too much.
I’d seen the bones. I’d met the monsters.
My parents wore masks to make them look happy, to hide secrets, to tell us they loved us. Even I wore a mask to hide my own monster. But now the masks had fallen off, and sliding them back on wouldn’t hide the truth anymore. What was seen could not be unseen.
The new beginning was here to be faced, like it or hate it.”
― The Colors Of Rain
But ours hid in the attic, not the closet. They hid among the journals, photos, shoe boxes, wedding dress, and board games.
Ours were tumbling out.
I had to clean up the mess alone—hide the evidence.
If this is what new beginnings looked like, I didn’t want one. If starting over meant facing the ghosts that haunt the past, I wanted to keep the past.
But there was no going back. I knew too much.
I’d seen the bones. I’d met the monsters.
My parents wore masks to make them look happy, to hide secrets, to tell us they loved us. Even I wore a mask to hide my own monster. But now the masks had fallen off, and sliding them back on wouldn’t hide the truth anymore. What was seen could not be unseen.
The new beginning was here to be faced, like it or hate it.”
― The Colors Of Rain
“I guess at six years old, being named after the rain does seem pretty discouraging, but on the other hand," I said, turning behind me to pull one of the long sunflower stems out of the bucket I'd brought in, "it's the rain that brings growth. No rain, no flowers. Our world would be missing a lot of beauty and color without it.”
― The Colors Of Rain
― The Colors Of Rain
“We all have skeletons in our closets, they say. My family included.
But ours hid in the attic, not the closet. They hid among the journals, photos, shoe boxes, wedding dress, and board games.
Ours were tumbling out.
I had to clean up the mess alone—hide the evidence.
If this is what new beginnings looked like, I didn’t want one. If starting over meant facing the ghosts that haunt the past, I wanted to keep the past.
But there was no going back. I knew too much.
I’d seen the bones. I’d met the monsters.
My parents wore masks to make them look happy, to hide secrets, to tell us they loved us. Even I wore a mask to hide my own monster. But now the masks had fallen off, and sliding them back on wouldn’t hide the truth anymore. What was seen could not be unseen.
The new beginning was here to be faced, like it or hate it.”
― The Colors Of Rain
But ours hid in the attic, not the closet. They hid among the journals, photos, shoe boxes, wedding dress, and board games.
Ours were tumbling out.
I had to clean up the mess alone—hide the evidence.
If this is what new beginnings looked like, I didn’t want one. If starting over meant facing the ghosts that haunt the past, I wanted to keep the past.
But there was no going back. I knew too much.
I’d seen the bones. I’d met the monsters.
My parents wore masks to make them look happy, to hide secrets, to tell us they loved us. Even I wore a mask to hide my own monster. But now the masks had fallen off, and sliding them back on wouldn’t hide the truth anymore. What was seen could not be unseen.
The new beginning was here to be faced, like it or hate it.”
― The Colors Of Rain
“Elrond's house was perfect, whether you liked food or sleep or story-telling or singing (or reading), or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Merely to be there was a cure for weariness. ... Evil things did not come into the secret valley of Rivendell.”
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