This is how God works with me.
I seek his face, my own expressionless, staring out the window
Smeared mascara, tears wiped away with a swipe of my wrist while doing dishes.
Heart sad, my spirit so discouraged.
My lack is in my face.
I go upstairs and gather my tools to enter into His presence.
Coffee, journal, blanket, fan, pen, books, phone…
A habit that carries me into the only thing that brings hope.