I’m having one of those evenings where I feel very lucky, but yet I can’t stop the tears rolling down my face. I can feel lucky and sad at the same time, apparently. My family is happy and healthy. I have my parents and my sister, and my husband and children, and they are all fine.
Still, I find myself looking up at the stars and saying a prayer for an old friend, and for a family member of a friend, and for a few other people I know who are hurting. I pray for our country, because all this hate and yelling and violence is wounding my soul, and I know I am not alone. I pray for all of those people who can’t quite wrap their heads around how seemingly good people can support something so toxic. I pray for the ones that love someone who has changed into someone they don’t know anymore.
Yes, Annelle, I pray.
No, I don’t go to church. I don’t consider myself a Christian, much to my parents’ disappointment. I do, however, believe in The Universe, and that there are forces of good and evil, and that my prayers go somewhere, and are heard somewhere, even if the impact they make is infinitesimal. I believe that there is something so very Holy in Spring, and the hydrangea, daffodils, azaleas, roses, and daylilies that pop up in my garden today. They are my old friends.
The come back every year, even when the man who taught me to love them is gone. They come back, even though the people I love don’t always come back.
Hope springs eternal.
Or something like that.
Annie, mom and I love you and are very proud of you. Maybe God talks to you through many ways such as the beautiful flowers, the waves at the beach, or the sunrise or sunset that he created, or perhaps your children or your Quint, your dog that passed. Don’t know the answer to your situation but continue to look for answers in the beautiful flowers. They did not just come up on their own, you know!