I’m in one of those clouds that simply seem to block out all memory of the sun.  Even when I feel the warmth, I deny that it is really a nice day.  I want the rain to keep people running to their cars instead of talking to me.  I want to stay under the covers instead of embracing the day.

There is a theory that when good things happen to people who have struggled much of their lives, that they have a hard time accepting the good and releasing the habit of struggle.  I may be in that conundrum.  A good job, great relationship, steady home.  And all I think about is too busy, tiresome tasks, drudge of getting up in the morning, and dreading appointments.  Wow.  what a life.

Asking those resistant isolating voices, the deepest I get is that I’m still grieving.  Something.  Someone.  Feeling alone and life just seems too much. I sure hope it doesn’t last long.

Dear One, infuse me with your beauty and energy.  Allow me to see the world as your garden, with an eternal spring of goodness and grace.  Open my eyes to the delicate joy of touching people’s lives as I hold Your hand.  Remind me that I am on an adventure we planned together and let me feel Your whisper in my ear always: “I love you just the way you are.”