I must work at it

Yesterday was the day I was supposed to leave the United States for Uganda for more than two years.

With my Hand of God Tree now fallen into the Chattahoochee River, and my Thinking Rock inaccessible due to the need to social distance during this global pandemic (so I’ve been avoiding the crowded boardwalk that would take me there), I went to the woods to chat with my higher power to ask, yet again, for some guidance, some patience, some trust. None of that comes easy to me, and I must work at it.