Are you still speaking, God? The sun is absent from the sky this morning as I scratch these words in my journal. There’s not enough color to even call it gray. It’s blank and cold… and so am I. I’m struggling this morning. It’s a familiar ache… one I’ve felt far too frequently in recent days. I feel off. It’s hard to tell if my struggle is physical or if it is depression and anxiety rearing their ugly head—maybe it’s a trauma response. I don’t know. All I know is I’m tired. I don’t rest when I sleep. I miss the sunshine. I’m tired of being cold. Winter drags on and on.