So here we are, at the longest days of the year, and I want to taste the loveliness of life, and lean into it, and be wrapped in it. Instead, I feel beset by trouble.
The whole cat thing still bothers me and I don’t know why. Then this weekend, Bryan came home to treat Dave to two things he wanted to do—a concert and a good French dinner—and Dave was too ill to do either of them.
Feeling trapped by unchangeable circumstance. People crowd in and I’m feeling like I need to be alone. I’ve often said that to love God is to accept what comes my way as OK. Not doing so well at that just now.
Oddly, I do best when nothing presses—no visitors, no holidays, no outside commitments. These days, even when they bring hardship, go more smoothly. They don’t ask more than I can give. Add one more thing, one more hard or unexpected need or requirement, and I am dismantled.
So am I reacting wrong in design or implementation? In implementation, without doubt. I don’t trust after all. Circumstances still drive me over the top, steal my peace. I feel undone.
Today is Sunday and as I read my Bible and pray it, as I study a book about monastic culture, I realize a couple of things. First, that monks made no apology for seeking eternal meanings in everything they did or read. I have been mocked for this, thought too high and mighty that I couldn’t or didn’t want to enjoy a large dose of simple entertainment.
But, and the 2nd thing—I’m wondering whether my current unease results from reading a good but not eternally significant Stephen King book and, at the same time, passing odd chunks of time playing a computer game. This morning, as I settle into serious reading, the knot in my stomach loosens and rattled nerves soothe a bit. Maybe I am not made to be amused.