Dear Father,
It is quiet, now. The winds have died down. We drift, waiting for the storm to come again.
We try to fix the broken pieces the last storm destroyed. We act as if the storm will not come back, but in my heart I know it will.
In my heart, I have to know it will. As soon as I forget, I am blindsided by the next.
I walk heavier around him. I am taking off my kid’s gloves. He seems to be more stable.
I can breath, again.
Lord, thank you for the calmness. Please sit with us through it.
Your daughter,
Kim
Growing Faith 