Sometimes palm trees aren’t planted by the water. Sometimes they’re living in a place where they don’t really belong. And for the most part, they thrive anyway. They might be surrounded by concrete with weeds popping through, or lining a drive nowhere near the salty breeze. And yet they thrive.

God doesn’t speak to me. It’s easy to think this when we’re spinning. We feel alone + afraid. Maybe we’re trying to control our emotions, but past traumas have a way of dragging us under. And we’re trying to stop, but it’s hard. It’s hard to stop ourselves from going back to old patterns.

In the ambulance ride

With my son in the back

Victim to his own behavior

In the emergency room

As the doctor tells him

That he can ask me to step out