Immeasurably More
Sometimes I tell myself a story. Usually, it is a story where I am the underdog, misunderstood, and finally the hero. Today, my morning started with a story. Changes at our granddaughter’s school left a gap for my mind to race to extremes, to have mental conversations with people not present, and to triumph as the savior of the day. The stories I tell myself include a minimum amount of truth, a high level of emotion, and a naïve telling of the story. Missing is the... in Prayer