Emotions running high this week. So much of what I've done centers around my father-in-law that it's hard to escape the reality that I'll never see him again. For two days I dug through my basement in search of photos of him. A reporter for the Associated Press is compiling a Memorial Day feature highlighting the lives of some of the veterans lost and about grieving during the pandemic. I pray God gives me the right words.
I've been in a dangerous place lately: one where I am truly certain if I didn't have to return to work to support the family I would just stay locked in the house and not even go out. It shocked me to see how busy Home Depot was today. I went out to get vegetable and herb plants, but couldn't find a parking spot on that side of the store. Most people wore masks, you could only enter through one door, and people were good about social distancing. Still, my supply of disinfectant wipes is dwindling as are my disposable masks. I have masks for myself, but need to provide them to clients.
Sleep eludes me. Reading and writing aren't of interest. I stopped tracking calories, however, we have been eating better since I've been home. I miss Sunday church service. Online just isn't the same.
On the bright side, my family is home. We have stayed healthy so far. My lighter schedule has allowed me to clean most of the house. Tomorrow I am speaking with a new client. On Monday we will get more details on the four-phase reopening plan for Massachusetts. It looks like they are working on making more room for outdoor dining. That would be great. We sure don't have enough.
I know I need time to heal, but it seems so far away right now; like it's possible the grief could swallow me whole like the whale did to Jonah. I need to pray more. I need to spend more time in the Word. God doesn't feel distant. It is I who is distant. I'm not even sure why.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18
