Some days we careen around here like a herd of angry bulls. We snuff and stomp, we posture and snarl at each other, our words sharp and huffing; our tempers already flaring–and all of this before breakfast.

When the day starts like this I shake my head, knowing that if the sun doesn’t rise soon, we will waste this day and gifts will be forsaken-uncounted and unrecognized.

We have to find a way out of this kind of black morning, before it runs away with all of us, before we cut each other too deep–

Join me over at Caroline’s space for the rest of this post… C’mon


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