I am sitting here, rattled from an early morning phone call over a child who was born into hardness, and I am sitting here by the fire in front of the Christmas tree that must come down thinking over the day that is ahead of me. I am at once searching the job site and leaving my clients to someone else with better advice and a thicker skin while still holding on and stepping back, remembering the small, tiny blips when things came together and worked and words rang true and I am remembering his smile and the day he wanted to share an order of fries and just sit, happy to be in a quiet space with a deck of cards and me- his person.

I fail every day with separating the work day from the home and there is a part of me that knows that the part-time receptionist job at a local college that just popped up on my screen would be cake, an absolute dreamy walk in the park.  But, I am divided always.  And the people I give my days to have already heard so many goodbyes.  So I am sitting here, of course in the blue chair, and I am praying desperate for His love to answer these many starving hearts.  This I can do, always.