She’s called Angel of Hope.
She came from somewhere unknown. Sometimes the memory starts to surface but it’s too blurry.
My attitude lately? Argumentative. (with God.) And he spoke to my heart this. And he asked me to read David, to study David at Bathsheeba’s son’s death. And he asked me why I was still wrapped up in grief. Then, he basically said, “Go.”
I don’t think he was disgusted with me, though my brain sometimes tells me nothing is ever enough. And he asks me, repeatedly, “Am I not enough for you?”
And he is, but I forget.