i sat on a stump in rhonda's backyard this afternoon while she was raking, and cried as i rambled on to her. she listened compassionately and would occasionally interject with "i don't know what to tell you". i assured her that was ok, there's really nothing anyone can say. there are no words of comfort. i'd run out of church a couple minutes before it finished, i was upset, and before i reached my car, the tears were sneaking out of my eyes. i drove straight to rhonda's, i intended to just pick up my knitting bag that i'd forgotten there yesterday, then go home to isolate myself for the rest of the day. but she was there when i arrived, and that was probably just what i needed.
things have changed a lot in the last 3.5 years. i've come a long way. i'm glad for my transformation. i'm glad things didn't happen the way i'd wanted them to, but i think i'm better off. my reasons have changed. and so have my motives. i feel good. i feel healthy and yet somehow i feel more powerless than ever. i ran the race, i rose to the challenge, i climbed to the summit, and i'm left feeling "now what?" i don't know where to go from here. the boat set sail without me, i'm sad even though i didn't have a ticket.
i finished my sox. i've started on another pair. i'm using thick needles and thicker yarn this time. i'm thinking/hoping i'll be able to crank these two out. i really enjoy wearing my knitted sox. mind you, these won't be as awesome because they're just plain lime green as opposed to my striped sox.
this is the off week for living room, so i'm just chilling out at home this evening. i'd intended to tidy, do some stuff around the house, have some fun at home. but sometimes things change unexpectedly.
still it's sunday morning,
i miss you the most.
7 comments:
Hey! I hope you are ok!
you have amazed me these past weeks and months with your spark and spirit. it's disorienting to feel that the ship has already left but in truth, it hasn't. we're all on it - we just don't necessarily know where it is going in every moment. besides, it's the misfits that are the interesting ones. take heart. you are loved. bren
You are definitely loved, Les. You add a very valuable piece to my life.
and to mine. love hugs and prayers...
thanks aphra. i'm always ok. i just wish i was more than that for a change.
thanks bren. i've been really enjoying getting to know you. and i'm looking forward to the concert on tuesday. i really look up to you, and sometimes think "if my life resembles brenda's in 10 years i'll be pleased". last time david was at next you were preaching. he said there's just something about you that radiates, it makes you very beautiful and he could just look at you all day.
oh rach, i should at sat with you this morning. i almost did, i don't know why i didn't. i'm sure if i had i wouldn't have left feeling so crappy and alone.
thanks dawna. i could use all the prayers i can get right now. i feel like God's turning a def ear to my petitions. maybe he'll listen to you. i appreciate you rooting for me :)
This is your official invitation to sit with me any time, Les - please do. When I looked across at you during communion on Sunday I thought you looked bummed out. And then I didn't get a chance to talk to you after. But I hope you're feeling better by today.
I liked your musings on time. Jason is an extreme example of the 'time as guideline' philosophy. He's been very lucky to get jobs that accomodate this.
thanks rach. will do. arriving each week not knowing who i can sit with can be kind of alienating. i can understand why so many people don't go to church, it's hard to feel like you belong when you're all alone. and that's coming from me who knows almost everyone and am very skilled at making conversation with strangers. but i guess i don't always have what it takes to with-stand shyness or various other emotions. so thanks for the open invitation. i'll take you up on that.
ya, jason is lucky. i've always had jobs that glorify time.
missed you at the meeting last night!
Post a Comment