Another Well

It is three in the afternoon and I’m stress-eating Twizzlers. I have swatted the head-stories for more than five hours now, attempting to calm this feeble heart and roller coaster ride in my stomach. These are days when I feel the world is against me. Because I would bet my finest linens, the eyes of those who pass stare for seconds too long. Grief-like looks overcome their faces … as if I’ve faced death and lost. It is the oddest thing to suddenly be written in as the protagonist in my own story.

But it turns out it’s all OK. It’s all OK. I’ve survived the inner depths of myself, and the miscalculations of my head. The cost? Not bad. As a deeper well of trust has grown in this time.

All this to say, I humbly admit, that even in the minutes and hours of such distress, You are at work.

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