I used to cry when I couldn’t get in contact with my mom. Sometimes days would go by without a returned call and I was convinced something bad happened and I would cry.

Then we’d finally talk to each other and the cycle would start all over again. Eventually, I decided it was the phone that was the issue so I bought my mom a new phone. Eventually the same thing would happen and I finally realized it was me.

My faith was so small I was convinced that missed phone calls meant death. I know that sounds terrible but some of you know what I mean. If you have loved ones who’ve needed a lot of care or had specific health needs and you didn’t hear from them, it could create debilitating anxiety.

Since then my faith has increased even as her needs have become more pronounced. I’ve had to practice the faith I claim to have in real time and in real ways.

Jumping to conclusions hurts the person who jumps while the other is oblivious to the sentiment.

Take care of yourself. Find your mustard seed of faith and hold on to it. You’ll need it. Harder things may be ahead.

Love,

Tiffani

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