I like comments.  At the least, they mean someone is reading.  Even better when my Sister is the commenter.

The setting is entirely too weird.  But remember.  I am out.  Read the post, Out.
I just keep forgetting.

That becomes the essential question.  Why do I keep forgetting how loved I am?
But that takes me to Wow, amazing how loved I am and how often I am aware of it and grateful for it when I am aware.

Can it be that the love of God really is so big that I can stand in the mire and be overwhelmed with goodness?  I am so ungrateful.

Daddy, forgive me.  You are so good to me.  You surround me with love.  You catch me when I stumble.  And sometimes I remember to thank you and celebrate.

Please show me the other side.  Grant me a vision of the future on the other side of this transformational season.  Sure, I want to run away.  Help me run away to you now.  I am so sorry but you are still worth, no matter what I do and say wrong.

I felt your hand on me this morning when I was in challenging times.  Thank you.  Please do not remove your hand of favor from me and your family here in Florence.