Dear God,

I'm sorry we haven't talked as much as I usually like to. Like, actually talk to you. I know that I'm still writing, but I miss the days of crawling into bed at night and spending time with you. It's not that I haven't wanted to, it's just that I haven't...almost like I haven't been able to bring myself to you lately. I'm not motivated. I'm not motivated for anything at the moment, it's such an unsettling feeling. I feel like I'm just meandering through days...like I'm merely wandering through life, when ideally I should be, and would like to be, wondering through life.

Today was a good day. Thank you for that. Thank you for the people you've so carefully place around me, who love me, and, through my faults and failures and human-ness, always always will. And thank you for time. Time to spend investing in relationships. Time is so cool.

You know what I love, Father? The fact that you know my heart better than I ever will. You created it, after all. And that you see so much more than I do. And that you do your best to gently whisper things to me, and when I don't hear, or choose not to listen, you whisper things loudly, and you don't stop until I hear, or I choose to listen.

I don't understand a lot. I say silly things. I'm sometimes a few sandwiches short of a picnic. But you love me. You love me. And you know me. You know me. And I know that you're always waiting, with arms wide open for me run to.

I'm running. As fast as I can.