I always seem to be in the kitchen when it happens. Now I'm not sure if that is because there is always something to clean, make or put away.

If I'm honest, it is where I spend way too much time searching for comfort.

The first time I noticed the kitchen as a lean-to for my weariness was on the phone with my two sisters and mom as they let me be partially present during my dad's final minutes this side of heaven.

I was alone...in the middle....of the floor.

First pacing, then slumping, then sobbing, then sliding into the middle of the floor sitting in my tears.

That cold tile seems to be the landing zone of choice after words or circumstances rip open my heart.

Spent some time on the floor this week....in the kitchen...

and there it is, my comfort.

No, not the donut, although I'm very tempted.

God's Word resting on the island.

Putting my Trust right there,

There is no where else to turn when my world spins.

He's building character through my circumstances and therefore I have hope.

Romans 5:3