Westwoods

  I stare at the blank page. So much to say. So much to process. So much to pray about. So much to face and own and change. This morning I woke up before six as I most often do. Its not because I am extra virtuous. My body awakens and rebels at staying still in bed for even another minute. I quietly padded out to the kitchen, drank a glass of water in the dark, fished around in the drawer for a lighter and lit...or lighted... which one is it??? my two autumnal candles. Next I made a old fashioned pot of coffee...the regular, boring way, while I mused on the testimony of Erika Kirk, which she gave to the nation last night. She mentioned her battle cry. I loved that. Mine is a song that is on repeat in my head for the past solid year.  I will sing of the goodness of God...Erika also mentioned that fact in a whisper while tears choked her voice. "God is so good!" And He is. Meanwhile the season of cozy is here in the pumpkin scones and vanilla candles. Also are the tragedies our...