I love early Sunday mornings. The streets are empty and quiet. The buildings and trees are lit with golden sunlight that’s unique to early summer. Birds are hailing the dawn, and a gentle breeze stirs the air. Sunday mornings are a wonderful time to collect one’s thought and listen for inspiration.
Mary slept in this morning, which is a very good thing. Although she and I haven’t been publicizing it, it’s clear to both of us that the recent events have been taking a toll. We’ve always faced our challenges together, but this particular challenge is more isolating than anyone without this kind of experience can know. We talk about things a lot, and we’re keeping that dialog open, but that does little to diminish the feelings of helplessness associated with watching a loved one in pain.
I’m going to go to church again this morning. I started going to church two weeks ago. I’m not sure why I haven’t been talking about it. I still have all of my reasons for not going, but I really need all the strength and inspiration I can get. I don’t want to be angry, and I don’t want to be living with anger.
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