Newsflash, y’all: I am immature, over-emotional, selfish, and ridiculous, and I am begging God to allow me to realize He has made me enough (even though life right now is saying that I am a not.)
I’m preaching to myself here. The ellipsis of life (who wrote that? I wish I could take credit) is the absolute worst. But I guess it’s the suspense that amplifies the sweet satisfaction of a long- awaited conclusion; after all, no one like a story where everything happens rightly for the protagonists. Where’s the juice in that?