Comfort is an unclogged toilet silenced of its gurgling commands.
It's sound asleep children and a floor swept by a husband who also made dinner and washed the dishes.
It's a knowing that all this running around will someday lead to a settling down, and then a wish to have it all back again, right back where it was.. crazy, busy, and beautiful.
Comfort is a slice of pie made by your own tired grateful hands to be eaten alone in the dark at the kitchen table in silence.
It's a promise that though rejection happens, our highest status is that of beloved by a great God and nothing is without hope, when He makes the impossible, possible.
Comfort is grit and sharp objects clung to bare soles, because life lives here.
It's warm coffee, gut-honest friends, truth proclaimers, and worship warriors who never give up and always give in to Him.
Comfort is a chance given by another.
It's that rest-assured feeling that no matter what blows past our sails, comfort can be had because peace was purchased by a Presence upon those wooden beams.
Comfort, it's a bone-tired soul, an unmade bed, a soft ac breeze, and sounds of a thunderstorm hovering in the distance.
It's a proclamation that all is well with the soul even though wells spring up all around.
Comfort, it's there to be had in all things.