There is power in prayer—I forget that. The power doesn’t sound loud or blustery, or look like a a stone being rolled away, at least not in my life. God answers through tweaks of the mundane. You ever watch a TV show, especially a comedy, and watch a character break the 4th wall? I LOVE THAT. One moment, I am sipping ginger beer and eating a popsicle, and then, boom!, acknowledgement of my presence. Like, I know I am watching, but they don’t know, or care, or see me—but breaking the 4th wall is an acknowledgement that yes, I am here, and yes, they know that the show doesn’t air only for its own sake, but also for the audience.
I have been pretty uncomfortable lately. Not afflicted, but challenged. My eyes and hands and respiratory system are reminding me that they are older and need tending. I have had some medical challenges and costs that have made me prone to worry. I also just returned home from a trip with extended family—and if you told 2006 me that I would be taking this trip with this group, I would have laughed you to scorn. There was so much animosity directed at me then that I could not believe that the dry bones of those relationships could live.
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