When morning light is far away and the dark night sits heavy on our chests, I roll over in bed and tell my husband a story. It is the hardest thing I do, and the best. The small fierce words, one after one after one, join together to fight back the night and give us room to breathe. It is a bad time when I do not have the strength for a story.
Stories are the most powerful things I know, and the only way to extend hope. Every god, every religion, is a story. And one God made the world with nothing but Words.