Jesus, Hot Chocolate,& the Missing Sock

You don't have to get it together before He'll show up.When you find yourself crying in the laundry room over a missing sock.Y'all, I found Jesus this morning... right next to the lint trap.It was one of those mornings. I woke up late, hair doing something that looked more like spiritual warfare than style, and shuffled to the kitchen like someone risen from the ashes. All I wanted—needed—was hot chocolate. But of course, someone (me) had forgotten to buy more.After digging like a raccoon at a church picnic, I found one lonely, slightly dusty pod under the sink. It tasted like burnt hope and last week's prayers. I didn't care.Then I tried to do that thing where you pretend you've got your life together. Put on pants, maybe even mascara. Find socks. But of course, only one sock could be found. Just one.And I'm a grown woman now crying in the laundry room over a missing sock.That kicked off what I like to call a classic Widow Wobbly—one of those teary spirals that hits out of nowhere and feels like you're grieving everything and nothing all at once.In this tender (and slightly ridiculous) episode, I'm sharing how Jesus shows up in the mess—among the toast crumbs and mismatched clothes. Because He doesn't need you to be polished or perky. He's already in it. In the sock. In the sink. In the sigh.Earthling, your love is not lost—it's just learning a new language. The porch light's on, the door's unlocked, and there's always room at this table for your beautiful, broken heart.If you’d like to come sit a while, you can find me at GrandmaFarmer.com.