A new day. Last Sunday stunk. I don’t want to do that Sunday again, EVER, thank you. Pastor Dave says,”Doing what you’ve always done will get you what you’ve always got,” or something to that effect.
Time for a change.
Taylor is still catching up from her trip, so she stayed home. I had a choice to stay with her or venture out on my own, remembering how much “fun” last week was. Not. Let’s try this again, shall we?
I got up not so early, got the fury kids taken care of, then got myself showered and ready for the day. I am still trying to dig out of pictures and things from over the last 27 years, so I sorted a bit because this week I was not going to allow myself to go into service with enough time to run out. First change: check.
Next I did sit in the balcony, as usual, but in a different spot, still hugging the seat on the end. This week two other single ladies joined my area. When a cute newly weddish couple wanted to slide into my seat next to me, I did the unthinkable (dripping with sarcasm) I slid over! I sat in the middle of the pew…and SURVIVED! Who knew? We did take a moment to meet the people around us and I did shake hands with one of my fellow singlees along with some others. The service was up beat and frankly, very convicting, but in a practical,”I so want to do this!” challenge. For the first time since Archie went home I stayed until they dismissed us. Again, I survived.
I did not stay and chat with anyone, nor did I want to. Grief, baby steps people ;). Tonight they are having a spring cantata. Normally I would be like,”uhh, no,” BUT they are offering coffee for the hour before. That’s like putting crack in front of an addict, for me.
Coffee to me means: warmth, time to slow down, savor the smell and flavor, sip over a conversation with either an old friend or a stranger that will be one…in about 20 minutes ;).
Sooo…will I go? Still to be seen. Home for continued grief work: figuring single life out, trying to help Taylor with her furniture dilemma, more of Archie in hidden corners for hidden tears, looking at all the stuff I have on shelves that used to have meaning and now it looks like stuff. I kinda feeling like boxing up everything that does have meaning because it would take a lot less time time. But that’s the grief. That’s why we are told over and over not to make big decisions for a year…even longer if we are still raw. 8 months 3 weeks, round abouts, not that I am counting. I wonder if my wounds will still be open, my scabs will be firm, or I will have fresh scars. As we were told: TIME does NOT heal all wounds…grief work does. ugh. Back to work. Will there be energy for coffee and music? That is the question.
“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.“
I think…for tonight…I’m going to lean on him, because I have labored today and cried until I don’t want to…for a while, and look for his rest.
It’s time for coffee and music.