As I put on makeup and got dressed, she was performing “We Need a Little Christmas.” Afterward, she told stories about being in Bed Knobs and Broomsticks, Beauty and the Beast, and Murder She Wrote. Right this moment, as I am typing this, she is starting to sing “Beauty and the Beast” and chills are going up my legs and arms. And this is when the little wisps of tears start. Because the older I get the more she is a part of my childhood and adulthood.

I am stretching myself to listen again; to hear His words and the Life they provide, despite my circumstances or challenges. Because this is what faith in God is. It’s messy and angry. It’s trying-but-not-perfect and here-believing-some-days-more-than-others. It’s learning to manage mortality, in a place that is so foreign and unfamiliar. Where we are separated from everything we know about God and ourselves. And somehow, some way, he makes it all work. Even when we don’t always see it.