We watched the radar all weekend, slack jawed and praying for relief for our neighbors to the east as Florence stalled out again and again over our coast. I could hear the rustling of the leaves outside, our whole apartment growing darker as the swirling clouds eclipsed the sun, but the rain never came.
The Black-eyed Susans are gone, with the exception of one lonely blossom nearly hidden at the bottom, holding on for dear life, and I whisper me, too every time I walk past it. Autumn has been here for two days, and we’re all waiting for the weather to catch up. It is the season of shedding, of getting swept up in the dying, knowing that He will call us to come out of winter’s grave soon enough. He always comes for us.
I text a friend: is it normal to be counting down the days until your next counseling appointment? I wonder if it has been too long, if perhaps I wasn’t as truthful as I could have been, if I have too little faith on the days when it feels like the whole world’s gone straight to hell and there’s just no redeeming what’s been broken by our carelessness. I wonder if I need the medicine again. I tell her that most days, I have no idea how to be here. I take a deep breath. He always comes for us.
The baby I nanny is learning to walk. So am I, little one. So am I.
Reading and read:
The Ministry of Ordinary Places, by Shannan Martin
Present Over Perfect, by Shauna Niequist
Falling Upward, by Richard Rohr
On the Other Side of Freedom, by DeRay Mckesson
Girl, Wash Your Face, by Rachel Hollis
Endless Years, by Will Reagan and United Pursuit
From around the world wide web:
Laughed till I cried at this video from Jimmy Fallon (also just cried, because how endearing is Steve’s son!?).
Weeping over the generosity of so many who came together to raise nearly $200k for counseling scholarships.
Let’s take care of and invest in our libraries.
Still can’t get over this goodness, y’all.
What have you been up to lately?
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