It’s all sorts of whirlwinds. All sorts of waves. Can I catch my breath before the next day flies by, the next wave knocks me around?
Highs and lows. Even lower. Can we get lower? Run to my high place, highest tower, rock above swirling waves: Jesus. Highest of highs, even on the lowest of days. Our depravity can never overwhelm His perfection of holiness and light. Joy and life eternal.
In a few days…
…she’ll be one.