I know He will show up.
I know God is here in this.

I know now more than ever that in the end I will stand and say it is well. 

Being in this moment, completely powerless, I kinda feel like raging at God: Why is this happening? Why aren't you doing something now? Why are so many people dying and you not stopping it?
And I can, because He will not turn his back my faithlessness and doubt. He holds my frustrated tears to His heart, my broken pieces in His hands.
One day I will say it is well.
For now I will simply choose to believe it.


I wrote this piece one evening, watching the sun set, smelling the apple blossoms and curled up in my warm pjs even though it was around 60 degrees. I think we often misunderstand our doubt as faithless or loving God less. We misunderstand our questionings that we are less than those who seem to have so much more faith than we do.
Especially in these times when sometimes all we have is our thoughts, now is the time to be honest with God, to ask Him what lies on our hearts the most, and ask Him to show up. Now is the time to question but also seek.
I'm not living in my doubt, but I will accept it and seek how to move on.

A lot has changed in one month. I've kept myself buried deep in The Crownless King publishing preparations, new projects, and working on some Crownless King preoder goodies. I've laughed a lot with my young siblings. Taken walks in the woods. Baked gooey brownies. Watched the sun set while curled up on the back porch. Listened to more Spotify than I ever have. Read the whole Patrick Bowers series. Called friends and family to check up on them. Cleaned the garage. Found new blogs to explore. Brainstormed story ideas over the dinner table. Had the windows up and listened to the birds and wind.



It's been a weird time.
Sometimes I feel I haven't accomplished anything.
Sometimes I feel exhausted, but most of it is mental because when I lay down at night I still can't sleep.
It's a weird time because home 24/7 because I feel like I'm sixteen again and in High School and shouldn't my mom be helping me figure out Algebra problems this evening? I've spent long evenings just making jokes and talking with my siblings.
It's funny, we use to be able to tell who was older and younger, but right now (especially for the four of out six), we seem on the same level of crazy.
But it's fun.
I don't know what I'd do without them in this time to keep me sane, to make me laugh at myself, to make me forget that the world is at war. It'll be eight thirty and getting dark but all the blinds are up and my fifteen year old bro is standing in the living room. He's reenacting a bingo match of old ladies and it shouldn't be as funny as it is, but we're in semi-isolation here, so it's hilarious and I'm laughing so hard tears are running down my cheeks.
This is my life right now.
It's not how I imagined it in 2020.



But for right now we're all laughing and that's all that matters.