faith, flotsam

It continues to be surreal

I’m sure I’m not the only one having these moments.

Not the only woman who has a hot flash and wonders if it’s the start of a fever. (Of course not. Don’t be silly.)

Not the only person who finishes their workout, goes to do something else while they cool down, only to briefly forget that’s why they’re feeling overly warm. (C’mon, really?)

Not the only person who examines every sneeze or cough to re-evaluate if it’s really just allergies. (Seriously? Were you not just out back? In the springtime?)

Not the only person who finds themselves in a mental fog wondering if it’s possible to wake up from this strange dystopian dream we’re having.

Not the only person feeling helpless and small before this enormity.

Not able to fathom the numbers.

Not able to contemplate the possibilities.

Not sure how I can currently be of any help or use to anyone, other than to sit tight and not risk carrying germs from place to place.

Not sure what else I can do, but to pray and wait for the One who hears and sees and knows, and can and does, and is and will.


Image: Decorated toes. Because once upon a time we could have houseguests and go for pedicures and it was good. And He is good. And things will be good again.

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