Running Barefoot

by Amy Harmon

My books were my friends,

I was surprised that the music could talk to me without speaking.

Ten-year-old girls without mothers should not have to bear the burden of early puberty,

I was much more secure in God’s love for me,

Sunday snow was the snow that fell on Sunday, but hadn’t yet been played or walked in.

the rhythm of your voice sounds like music to me, that’s all.”

“It’s not my job to make sure people know me or like me,”

you can’t build walls and then be mad when no one wants to climb over them.”

Jane Eyre was like comfort food to me,

“Where true love would have redeemed them, obsession condemned them forever.”

“I’m not sure I want to be responsible for saving your life.”

sometimes I think that what I see gets in the way of what’s…what’s just beyond the beauty.

Our ears were trying to hear what our eyes keep hidden.”

I know you did it because you do care….but don’t take my pride from me.”

a melody had shivered its way into my subconscious,

padded

One heritage was not more important than the other.”

“You always walk in beauty, Josie. You are constantly looking for it. I think you are secretly a Navajo after all.”

“Because it’s always easier to believe the worst.”

“It was too good to be true, too sweet to be reality for too long, so when someone set out to destroy his belief in her, it made more sense to doubt her than to believe that she had truly loved him in the first place.”

Sonja said women have many emotions, but only one physical response. When we’re angry we cry. When we’re happy we cry. When we’re sad we cry. When we’re scared, you guessed it, we cry.

Your individual worth comes from keeping your promises and being a man of character.

The world would be a much better place if there were more people like you.

Our generation is unbelievably soft.

Someday, I would be the one to leave.

I was a steady, quiet presence in the lives of those around me. But sometimes in my reading I would discover new insights or have seemingly profound thoughts that would change my way of thinking. I would be hungry to share my inspiration with someone, so I would try to share my epiphanies with my dad or my brothers. They would remain politely quiet for a few seconds and then become distracted by something more interesting or urgent than my newly acquired knowledge, leaving me to talk to myself. I usually just stopped talking when I could see they really weren’t interested or listening, and they never protested or urged me to continue.

Some things can’t be explained or shared; they tend to lose their luster when passed around.

that in his death I could claim him,

you push people away for long enough, isolation become a terrible habit. People start to believe you prefer it.

There’s just something about red shoes.

“There is quiet, and then there is too much quiet,”

I was through loving people who would only leave.

“You were never small-town, Josie.”

a princess acting like a pauper,

“You were a child. Of course you took it for granted,”

“I like being alone, but I hate being lonely.

“Where would we all be without people like you?”

it is what yearning sounds like.”

‘How much owest thou unto my Lord?’”

“The story of the prodigal son isn’t just about the sins of the son that left and came back. It’s about the sins of the faithful son as well.”

‘How much owest thou unto my Lord?’ How much? How much do I owe? The truth is I can’t ever pay my debt. Ever. We ALL owe everything to God. There is no level of debtedness. I am no less in debt than that man who almost lost his life at my hand. The more faithful son is no less in debt than his prodigal brother. We all owe Jesus Christ everything.

we become what we surround ourselves by,”

“I’ve never been the one to leave, Dad.”

‘Dad, do you think this puzzle could ever put itself together if I shook it just right?’ and I said, ‘No honey, I don’t think there’s any chance of that.’ Do you remember what you said then?” I shook my head in soggy bewilderment. “You said, ‘Well, then I guess there’s no way the world just happened by itself. Someone had to put it together.’

Does he hear you, the way none of us can?”

I know you’ve thought God turned his back on you. But He’s looked out for you,

I don’t want you holdin’ back all your life, sharing yourself in doses that people will accept.

He whispered something in my ear, and I looked into his face as he repeated the word softly. “It is my Navajo name.” I touched his face reverently. “You are my wife, and the closest person to me. You should know my name because it is yours now as well.”