Most days I am full of enthusiasm for the day, expectation for the future and my favorite, reflection on the past. Most days I can see the light at the end of a short tunnel and am confident it is there, even if this current tunnel is long. Most nights I lay my head on the pillow, even when I'm alone, feeling exhausted from the full day, but content, falling asleep as my mind whispers thanks to my God. Most mornings I wake up knowing that my desires for the day will be frustrated by so many "have tos" that I must adjust my "get tos" and "want tos". I wish it were the other way around. Most days I look forward to the quiet time I spend either in my Bible study or reading a good book or with Dell. Most days, anyway.
Today,though, and yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that...are not most days. Today I don't want to wake up. Today I can't see the tunnel, I am swallowed up by it, and there is no light. Today, I will not get to my "have tos" and I have no "want tos". I have the house to myself but I need the quiet to drown out the noise. My Bible, full of comfort sits within arms reach and yet I can't reach it, or hear it, don't know it. Today I can't remember the past, and I don't want tomorrow.
My umbrella holder is gone for two mornings, two days, two nights and all the time in between. The storm rages and I am soaked...whatever else falls on me is likely to run right off because there is afterall, a saturation point with all things. I just want to go home except, I am there. I just want everything like it was, except that it isn't. I just want to get up from a heap on the floor, except I am up.
Umbrella holder, I miss you. I know you can't make it stop, but you are mighty strong in keeping me upright and covered from the worst. Umbrella holder, I miss you. You are mighty good at holding the towel over my heart trying to protect it. Umbrella holder, I miss you. You are mighty, perfectly, wonderfully good at looking in my eyes and speaking hope to me and helping put the truth back when it gets washed out of place in the torrent. I just miss you.
A Tour of My Parents’ House
11 hours ago