A couple of years ago, when Preston was hospitalized and we were in the deepest valley I’ve ever known, I caught myself talking to God.  All the time. Like He was right by my side in the human flesh.

It was a feeling I’ll never forget.  Preston had been given a death sentence by the fleshly doctors.  I kept chasing the hospital chaplain out of the room(we all know what that was about😩).   I was scared, alone, and weary.

I felt like I had prayed so much that it was never ending.  One prayer never stopped before the next one began.  All day long.  Then it was more like I was just talking to God and not praying the “religious” prayers.  He saw my heart and my raw emotions.  He heard my cries.

And He comforted me.  I found joy.  In Him.  I was not alone. I never had been.  I believe that when we are truly broken, we can find God right next to us.   So many people tell me that I’m strong. That’s the furtherest from the truth.  I often laugh and ask if they could  not see Jesus holding me up?  I saw Him in it all.  I felt Him.

Now, I’m craving that relationship again.  It’s a yearning that only He can satisfy.  No church can, no man can.   I let life get in the way.

God didn’t go anywhere.  I did.