what does today look like?
what does today, the 5 year "anniversary" of becoming a widow, look like?
It looks like setting my alarm for 6:30 last night before going to sleep so I can make it to McDonalds by 7 for small group. Waking up at 4:41. Trying to go back to sleep until the alarm goes off. Dozing. Giving up at 6:10.
It looks like making my bed to start the day off right.
It looks like fog in the distance, but remarkably, none close. A hint of the sun trying to break through. A reminder that I don't have to see what's far away clearly to know that the Son is there and all He expects of me is to handle what I can clearly see in front of me, trusting that when it is time He will burn away the fog.
It looks like meeting 3 young ladies to get caught up on life from 7-8, coming to a final agreement about what we will study this semester and not buying McDonald's breakfast because I am making better food choices.
It looks like coffee in my mug when I got home-
but grounds because,
well, brain fog.
And when I shook the fog off, making coffee I was able to drink.
It looks like taking the Christmas cookie cutters my kids used when they were young and using fishing line to turn them into ornaments and then hanging them on my family memories tree.
It looks like sending and receiving messages of comfort and prayer.
It looks like meeting with a senior transfer student who is looking for a Bible Study.
Finding out there are 4 other girls who want to join us.
Setting a tentative weekly meeting time.
It looks like supper in the cafe soon, a women's soccer game at 7 and the possibility of more tears sometime this evening, most likely between supper and game start and/or after I get home from the game.
It looks like a good day to practice what I've learned about living in the tension of being thankful for and celebrating life. Being filled with joy. Not fearing tears or laughter. Allowing sadness and grief to have their time and place alongside joy and happiness.
It looks like setting my alarm for 6:30 last night before going to sleep so I can make it to McDonalds by 7 for small group. Waking up at 4:41. Trying to go back to sleep until the alarm goes off. Dozing. Giving up at 6:10.
It looks like making my bed to start the day off right.
It looks like meeting 3 young ladies to get caught up on life from 7-8, coming to a final agreement about what we will study this semester and not buying McDonald's breakfast because I am making better food choices.
It looks like coffee in my mug when I got home-
but grounds because,
well, brain fog.
And when I shook the fog off, making coffee I was able to drink.
it looks like a beautiful morning
It looks like quiet time, alone with Jesus before going to chapel.
And tears while I sang "Christ Alone, Cornerstone".
After chapel it looks like enjoying treats from an "I love you box", full of comfort items, sent by a friend, timed so that it arrived yesterday.
It looks like two of the three games on my free Lumosity subscription being my favorites.
and getting a top 5 score on Word Bubbles
It looks like taking the Christmas cookie cutters my kids used when they were young and using fishing line to turn them into ornaments and then hanging them on my family memories tree.
It looks like laundry.
4 loads.
Washed, dried, folded and put away or hung to dry by mid afternoon.
It looks like lunch with friends at McDonald's. (Trying the Ranch Bacon Grilled Chicken Salad instead of a burger and fries. And yes, there are other fast food options in Grayson.)
It looks like meeting with a senior transfer student who is looking for a Bible Study.
Finding out there are 4 other girls who want to join us.
Setting a tentative weekly meeting time.
It looks like men's soccer practice from 3:30-5:30.
It looks like supper in the cafe soon, a women's soccer game at 7 and the possibility of more tears sometime this evening, most likely between supper and game start and/or after I get home from the game.
It looks like a good day to practice what I've learned about living in the tension of being thankful for and celebrating life. Being filled with joy. Not fearing tears or laughter. Allowing sadness and grief to have their time and place alongside joy and happiness.
It won't be 5 years for me, but it will be 1 year next month. I don't know how I will handle that day. Today I took a road trip to my home town and visited the cemetery where my parents and relatives are buried. Also visited the house that was my uncle's until he died 4 year's ago. Got an ice cream cone on the way back home. All day I felt Carole with me and knew she would have enjoyed the day. For some reason the Kenny Roger's song about holding or folding popped up on my mind. Realized I have to deal with the hand I've been dealt - with God's help of course.
ReplyDeleteyou, my friend, are covered in prayer. every day.
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