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.
The Unexpected Presence of the Always Present God
The Unexpected Presence of the Always Present…
The Unexpected Presence of the Always Present God
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.