He is waiting for you at the well
Dear Grace, Some days I rest in you better than any sleep number bed. On other days you are more slippery to me than any oil spill in the ocean. I try to get a hold on you, but my fingers cannot grasp a drop that gets swept away by the waves. When the trials… Continue reading Dear Grace: A Letter of Thanksgiving
Piercing I cover my ears and face, rocking back and forth, knees to my chest, and choking back big sobs. I take another anti-anxiety pill to stop the trembling and hopefully get some sleep tonight. They are so loud. Memories piercing like blasts of a siren. These flashbacks in the clutter of my mind that… Continue reading Cluttered Chaos of the Mind
