I’m battling a nasty bug this week that has had me flat on my back and mostly sleeping. And coughing. And blowing my nose. If this week’s plan had gone according to my will, I’d be in Tennessee right now for work, catching up with industry friends. My house wouldn’t look like the morning-after-frat-house that it looks like right now. The groceries would be purchased and stored, bills would be paid and so on.
But I’m learning to let go. I had to do that again yesterday, when I finally had to admit to myself that I wasn’t going to able to make the trip south. That this (too) was out of my control. I didn’t even make it to church for ashes, which I missed.
I woke up this morning still feeling (and looking) crappy, but realizing that at least I’m beginning Lent in complete humility. After dragging myself out of bed, I came downstairs, let the dogs out, then settled into a serious case of feeling sorry for myself. Okay, God. This is me, completely unplugged. 100% dependent on you for healing. For instruction. For happiness … because I’m running on empty right now.
I pulled open a drawer and found a little prayer book I’d tucked away, ages ago. I opened it to this:
“Most high, glorious God, enlighten the darkness of my heart and give me, Lord, a correct faith, a certain hope, a perfect charity, sense and knowledge, so that I may carry out your holy and true command.” ~Saint Francis (Prayer before the Crucifix)
Yes. What he said.
Then I picked up my camera and looked for the light. ❤