Chapter Sixteen

She stood at the windows in the bedroom of the room Martha had given to them, looking up to the clouds, but not really seeing them. Her mind mirrored that which she set her gaze upon, cloudy.

Everything she had been told downstairs was more than a spoonful, so much to swallow and she needed to catch her breath.

"Dear God, how do I go on?" She whispered. She felt her strength slipping away. She had been happy that Martha had answers, but now the answers were before them, she had no idea what to do about them, and all they did was wear her down. Where was the good in that?

My Grace is sufficient for you, my strength is made perfect in weakness.

"Mmm?" She heard herself say, her eyes were closed now, and the words she heard within her were soothi

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