I have been traveling a lot this fall, frequently waking up in strange places with a sort of scripturient hangover. My urge to write is so instinctual that not putting pen to paper becomes a near-physical ache. However, the Holy Spirit stayed my pen while I gathered unique experiences across three countries. I had wanted to share about one nation’s artistic beauty and another’s incredible history. Instead, God is guiding my pen to write about a half-eaten cheeseburger, even though it’s an uncomfortable, quasi-embarrassing story. So, dear reader, here we are. When I first became widowed, I immediately searched out support for myself and my children. I found a Christ-centered…