I like to start my mornings at five in the morning. I pour myself a hot cup of coffee and write. After that I go for a nice long run and do a round of yoga. It’s calm, it’s peaceful, and it’s a lie! My dream version of me does start her morning that way.
I’m sitting here with my makeup done for the first time in ages (minus the quick face I throw on for church on Sunday). My hair is damp, hasn’t been brushed, and I’m debating on drying it for the full effect or throwing it up in a bun the way it will eventually be done
My prayer list has grown longer and longer these days. Desperate prayers. Some small, some big. As I write this my eyes are heavy as the kiddos joined me in bed at 4:00 AM and were up for the day by 6:00 AM. I struggle to find the energy to even think of meals today.
I’m not OK. It’s a hard sentence to write. I’ve been struggling with a few things and those few things have turned in to more things that trigger more things. It’s a hard cycle to break. Our new home doesn’t feel like home yet. It’s still filled with boxes that need to be gone through