This evening begins 6 days —
144 hours.
8,640 minutes
without my whole heart with me.

That number makes my chest tighten a little.

None of this timing was mine to choose.
The plans were made. The schedule laid out.
And I’ve been quietly dreading it ever since.

Time is strange, isn’t it?
We beg it to slow down —
then suddenly, we need it to fly.
To disappear.
To carry us somewhere that doesn’t ache quite so much.

I think these are the moments that shape us most.
The ones where everything feels stretched —
heart, soul, time.

And here I am, sitting in it.

I could resist it.
Run from it.
Let the ache name me.

Or I could do the harder thing:
lean in.
Not into the absence —
but into the One who meets me here.

I’m not sure what the next 8,640 minutes will hold.
But I know this:
I won’t walk through a single one of them alone.