...I enjoyed work yesterday. I awoke heavy with the dread of it, but found myself smiling, laughing, meeting and enjoying the challenges of the day, and, indeed, finishing well.
What a gift from God. I surely didn't expect that.
D's doing as well as can be expected. I don't really have any news other than that. Here's an excerpt from a letter I'm writing to a friend:
"I don't feel anything about the situation. Not scared or upset or relieved or pensive or... anything. Before they left, I did choke up at the thought of him not coming back, but since then... I guess I've realized that he's not my father. I'd be very, very grieved if he were to pass away, but... not in the same way that J or K would. I have R, but truly... I have no father but God. Maybe that's what it is? I dunno. It's just rather weird to be so apathetic in the midst of such a maelstrom of emotion.
Another thing that's weird is this juxtaposition of two very distinct seasons of life-- D's life may very well be drawing to a close. Yet, in the midst of this "Autumn", my plans for the future are coming together-- "Spring", as it were. It's like kicking through the fall leaves and uncovering a daffodil. The two are seemingly incongruous, yet the sheer impossibility of it lends a majesty, solemnity, and beauty that would not otherwise be there. A daffodil doesn't stop you in your tracks when they are all in bloom. And I feel that, because of the solemn circumstances that surround my plan-laying (a cocoon comes to mind), I am receiving a special gift. I don't know what it is yet, but I can feel that important pieces are being laid in place. Something big is coming, and with the passing of time, I will look back on my daffodil amongst the leaves with gratitude and awe. Yes, and reverence too, for I know that God is weaving himself into every little detail."
That's where I am right now.
What a gift from God. I surely didn't expect that.
D's doing as well as can be expected. I don't really have any news other than that. Here's an excerpt from a letter I'm writing to a friend:
"I don't feel anything about the situation. Not scared or upset or relieved or pensive or... anything. Before they left, I did choke up at the thought of him not coming back, but since then... I guess I've realized that he's not my father. I'd be very, very grieved if he were to pass away, but... not in the same way that J or K would. I have R, but truly... I have no father but God. Maybe that's what it is? I dunno. It's just rather weird to be so apathetic in the midst of such a maelstrom of emotion.
Another thing that's weird is this juxtaposition of two very distinct seasons of life-- D's life may very well be drawing to a close. Yet, in the midst of this "Autumn", my plans for the future are coming together-- "Spring", as it were. It's like kicking through the fall leaves and uncovering a daffodil. The two are seemingly incongruous, yet the sheer impossibility of it lends a majesty, solemnity, and beauty that would not otherwise be there. A daffodil doesn't stop you in your tracks when they are all in bloom. And I feel that, because of the solemn circumstances that surround my plan-laying (a cocoon comes to mind), I am receiving a special gift. I don't know what it is yet, but I can feel that important pieces are being laid in place. Something big is coming, and with the passing of time, I will look back on my daffodil amongst the leaves with gratitude and awe. Yes, and reverence too, for I know that God is weaving himself into every little detail."
That's where I am right now.
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