Stumbling With Blistered Feet

Decades later, Ruth’s daughter Annie lay on the couch, exhausted.  Lately she’d been running a marathon, working so hard on herself to be a better person and truly believing she was relying on her Jesus to heal.  but not understanding the full force of rest in the Lord. Two hours after she lay down her weary head on the makeshift bed, she awoke to her daughter cooking poached eggs in the back of the large open room.  The overhead light was on and Annie lost her cool.  It quickly escalated into a shouting match.

“You know how tired I am, Why is the light on! And why are you sitting there watching me?” Annie growled.

“I didn’t wake you up,” Zara retorted, “Sadie shook her head and the sound of the chain on her collar woke you up.”

“I need rest,” she pleaded.  “I sleep in my room and I only cough when I go in because you smoked in there.”

The two women continued to fire the ping pong ball at each other until Annie shut it down with a killer shot,

“Treat me with respect or move out.”

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