Forced function these days as thyroid drags down and on. Everything in slow motion. Life moving in a sort of fog. Walk slow. Talk slow. Think slow. Blink slow. Little butterfly gland wraps her wings around my throat, making me feel all the preciousness of one, simple breath, and how do you live this way? Waiting for the medicine to really take hold. Must hold my tongue because everything is irritating. Everybody too loud. Too needy. Too much.
So this is how we start our school year. Me sitting in that chair reading to them though my vocal chords are being pressed. Though I keep looking over at the couch and wishing I could lay down. Sleep and sleep. School all day before the driving begins. Hold the wheel tight. Hold myself awake and alert. And what in all the world am I doing?
Pick the Kind and Compassionate up from football practice, and he trusts me so much that he begins to vent and cry. He wonders what is the point of his life, what is all the meaning behind the sports and the scholastics? Why is this important, and shouldn't he be doing something important with his life? Shouldn't he be doing something for God?
I tell him he should read the book of Ecclesiastes sometime...maybe just once. To know that he is not alone. I want to tell him how I'm feeling it too...just the wastedness of life sometimes. And why would Jesus die for it anyway? Why would He die for this life falling apart, and this body so clearly fallen?
It is a dusty land we walk, and I feel all that grit between my toes. Somedays, I just feel dirty. Low. Down.
Sometimes, the best part of the day is that it's over. My soul sighs, "Thank God!" as I lay my head down on pillowed comfort. To rest my head and close my eyes. To sleep. To dream. To hope for a better tomorrow. To remind myself that He is coming again soon. He. Is. Coming. Again. Soon.
Perhaps Today,
Bernadette
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