Five a.m. A faint smell of ginger and molasses lingers in the air in the kitchen, a remnant of cookie baking last night. Overlaying and soon to overtake it is the scent of coffee brewing, and the sweet cinnamon wafting from the sweet rolls in the oven. For the moment, life is good.
The study Bible and journal are sitting on the desk, waiting. I've nowhere to go until a funeral service in the late morning, and plan to spend as much of the morning as I can reading, writing, praying, letting God work the kinks out of my soul. The last few months have been a bit like being in a prize fight, trapped in the ring with an opponent two weight classes up from you. Satan's gloves are laced on tight, and he's going for a knock out.
The intention for this weekend is to hibernate, pull back from the world and recharge. Too much going on, too many people wanting things I'm not prepared to give, too much fuss and certainly too much pain.