The greatest enemy against faith is practicality.
At least in my story.
Funny, the only way she could comfort me is to remind me that crying is not the answer.
My father was not a provider.
My mom brings home the bread.
Subconsciously, that's who He is to me.
I struggle to believe, "He made all things work together for my good."
Worship is my way of rejuvenation.
Worship is His way of comfort.
Worship is our way of walking together.
When I sing, I sang in spirit and in truth.
Unfortunately now, I am deprived of my energy again.
PS: How can that kid not even say a word of thank you for my cleverness. I already dialed down so much. Not fair...
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