when you startle yourself awake early because of the dream about missing his field trip and then in real life you're running a couple minutes late so you barely scrape the ice from the half of the windshield and you drive down the road with the windows open and wipers wiping but it's impossible to see and you hope you hit nothing and then you get to the highway and you know it's not safe to drive like this but you're not sure what to do so you laugh it out loud, desperate and in need "jesus, i'm an idiot" and you take a deep breath and make the wipers work faster and before the light to get on the highway turns green, the ice falls in chunks off the windshield as if the warm breath of jesus himself melted it away.


let love and faithfulness never leave you. bind them around your neck write them on the tablet of your heart