The joy of my world is in Zion
I'm clawing my way out of the pit. A tried and true method of hanging onto my shreds of sanity is to go to the weight room and let the oracle of the iPod give me messages. (That doesn't sound so sane when I put it that way, does it?)
Today I heard Lauryn Hill's "To Zion" and it suddenly made me remember the best thing that has happened to me all day.
This morning I awoke feeling anxious and burdened at 5:30, about two hours before I had to get up. B. was already up, because he is ALSO feeling anxious and burdened, and I awoke feeling the lack of him. I considered getting up, but instead called out to B. and asked him to bring me a baby. Moments later I saw B. bringing a gangly nearly-ten-year old through the door, legs and arms akimbo. I opened up the sheets for him and he snuggled right in, still asleep. I went back to sleep myself. When it was time to wake up, my eyes opened on his face. In repose he had that little rose-bud mouth that babies have. His cheeks are glistening and smooth, his eye lashes are fluttery and perfect. Against all odds, B. brought me a baby.
I nearly let the best moment of my day (week?) escape. I need to hold onto those.
Today I heard Lauryn Hill's "To Zion" and it suddenly made me remember the best thing that has happened to me all day.
This morning I awoke feeling anxious and burdened at 5:30, about two hours before I had to get up. B. was already up, because he is ALSO feeling anxious and burdened, and I awoke feeling the lack of him. I considered getting up, but instead called out to B. and asked him to bring me a baby. Moments later I saw B. bringing a gangly nearly-ten-year old through the door, legs and arms akimbo. I opened up the sheets for him and he snuggled right in, still asleep. I went back to sleep myself. When it was time to wake up, my eyes opened on his face. In repose he had that little rose-bud mouth that babies have. His cheeks are glistening and smooth, his eye lashes are fluttery and perfect. Against all odds, B. brought me a baby.
I nearly let the best moment of my day (week?) escape. I need to hold onto those.