220 The Quiet Fraying: A Year in the Tension of Faithful Surrender
Words echoing in this rainy morning, how have I grown?
The rain is a soft percussion on the roof this morning, a steady, gray rhythm that matches the quiet within me. My prayers are done, the coffee is cool in my mug, and the house holds its breath. I realized I have not shared much with you this week. The words have been circling, waiting for a landing strip, but the runway of my attention has been occupie…
