somehow, dane gets himself wedged under the end table or the swing or the little chairs to the girls’ table. i’m not sure how he even moves to those spots and then suddenly i hear some pathetic crying that says, “i need help!” and there he is. stuck.
it’s kinda like that with me. except that God completely knows how i got there and is just waiting for me to stop trying to do it myself. then when i call out for help, he’s there waiting. i know this doesn’t make sense with what i last posted, but who said that women’s feelings are rational? not me!