I am restless! I can’t put my finger on it, but I feel something akin to desperation and it frightens me. We are supposed to be content. Bloom where we are planted. Wait on God’s timing. I started reading a book about missionaries, which may’ve been a mistake. All the books I read seem to have the same message, so it may not make a real difference.
Crazy Love, The Help, The 10-Second Rule…all speak to me in a particular way. Get up! Move! Matter. Think eternally and don’t be distracted by the ashen treasures of this world. My husband wants me to read a book now and I resist. The more I read, the more restless I get.