I’m satisfied because of what He’s done for me.
I’m pleased because I conduct myself how He desires.

I take joy in my refuge from the rain.
The bugs take joy in my refuge from the rain.
It blows in and I move back, to the delight of the mosquitos who bite and itch and annoy,
but who really eat me alive and expel themselves into my skin.
I walk inside and find that peace is disrupting. There is comfort.
I’d end this poem if I knew how

Now I use the umbrella my dad bought for me