Journal Entry 1/16/2015
It's 6:45. I peer out the window, holding a cup of hot coffee on a cold winter morning. The trees form silhouettes amidst the gentle ray of pink rising from beneath the fence line. I breathe in and invite the rising sun into my fear of falling.
"Father, what do you see when you watch me stumble into obscurity."
"I see you, my child . . . doing the best you can."
You are not alone,
Published on Friday, January 16, 2015 @ 9:56 AM CDT