The Sky I Keep Looking At
I believe in God . Or something like Him. A force. An order. A hand beyond my control. Call it God, call it the universe, call it whatever your grandmother called it. I believe in it. Here's why. There's a point in everything worth doing where your effort runs out. The 5 a.m. alarms, the planning, the polished version of yourself — and still, nothing moves the way you willed it. The job doesn't land. The room stays cold. The plan falls apart on a random Tuesday, no reason attached. And right there, hands empty, something in you looks up. Not weakness. Instinct. Okay. I've done my part. Now you take care of me. That's not defeat. That's hope . The most underrated force we have. Not the sit-back kind. The kind that keeps you showing up to a life that isn't cooperating, because some part of you still believes it's going somewhere. Take hope out of a person, and watch the fight leave with it. Which is why I've never understood people who let it go. Not ...