Morning breaks before this eleventh floor. It looks like no one is awake, that the city below is lifeless. That it could be me here in room 1105 and everyone else left.
Zoe's sats have been good. Better - while sleeping - when she's got some o2 flowing by her. Heard last night that Bat is wrestling hiccups for 30 hours, battling to breathe. Along with Zoe, Jen and me.
Where is the next dollar going to come from? Or the next breath? For me, where will the next idea come from? Where will the next time when I'm in the same room with my wife come from? When will the next time my family be together come from? Does God see what I'm going through? What I'm carrying? That I can't take another step? And what is he going to do about it?
Louis Giglio talks about Isaiah 40. He says the answer is a question. Have you not heard? The Lord is an everlasting God. His understanding...no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary. Power to the weak. Those who stand right in the midst of the craziness, in the midst of the pain, dealing in the middle of the chaos, will receive renewed strength.
