Images of grapes being crushed in the winepress or raspberries being pressed through a sieve linger in the back of my mind, I suppose because I feel a lot like the fruit right now. So I'm waiting.
I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
My soul waits for the Lord,
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning. (Psalm 130: 5-6)