Now conscious of my turning, I consider the way back to trust. And I ready myself for the tussle. Because this trust requires honesty. It requires that I look straight into what is real today and pray. Not a flowery prayer that defies reality, but raw, visceral prayers of lament. That cry out for encounter. And in this place of prayer — talking, crying, listening, thanking, releasing — God’s goodness becomes rooted in me again. Because I begin to remember his character, his faithfulness. And I begin to see his face more clearly, the expression of love and kind knowing. In this place, in the light of Love’s face, I can rest. I can wait. I can trust.