Oatmilk and Ordinary Faithfulness

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Today would be different, I was sure of it. In harmony with my expectation, I ordered a cappuccino with oat milk rather than my usual blonde roast and settled into a chair for some reading, writing, and early-morning work. I knew what I wanted to do, but my chest was not tight, my shoulders were not hunched. The day didn’t feel light, but it wasn’t heavy either. The project that lay ahead often…

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