There’s a shuddering weight of things pressing up against my
spine.
I feel all right. But my eyes are looking tired. I’m home.
Spent most of the morning cleaning, which WAS good for my soul. And did a little
final work in the store; I was there in time to “fix” the dishwasher – remove a
fork that was obstructing the plug. I left gifts. Packed up and drove home on
precisely a quarter-tank of gas.
So behind. That’s OK, babe. Take it a step at a time. R just
said to be good to my heart, my family, and my work.
I need to let You be good to me, Lover-Lord. Yikes. That
sounds either saccharine or ominous. You’re right there, already ahead of me,
ready to welcome me, ready to speak to me. You will not let me fall.
Mostly I just don’t want to lose You. I care too much about
what people think. And I don’t understand, or like, everything about You, God.
Yet I’m married to You. This is it. You’re stuck with me now, forever, so
You’ve got to help me. This was Your idea. But I know You’re too much of a
gentleman to manipulate me. Just keep being Yourself. And don’t leave me alone.
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