A collection of words of an incredibly flawed girl with an incredibly perfect Father. Remember what it feels like to wake up slow. Remember what it sounds like to hear npr crackling. From that old black radio in the bathroom,. Air tinged with the fresh scent of after shave. The feeling of the warmth of that morning. Your papa combing his hair. Your mom telling you your hair is beautiful like that. With your frizziness and waves. There are moments i mourn.

I glance at my watch. I rub my eyes, aware that my hands are far from clean. Dried sweat and grimy hand sanitizer cling shamelessly to my knuckles and nails. Dusk falls as patients wait outside the hospital compound the night before the screening. Early this morning we reminded our patients that these appointments are not for surgery bu.

Walking in the path that Jesus has called me to. So David asked God, Should I go out to fight the Philistines? Will you hand them over to me? So they name.