Call me a killjoy, but I am loving this weather! The fog, the rain . . . bliss.
I’m not a fan of day-after-day of rain and wind, but every now and then is nice. Somehow it gives me permission to rock a hoodie and socks on the couch – preferably curled up with a book and a cuppa.
I might be wrong, but I think that until we experience grief and/or depression we often underestimate the amount of physical and mental effort it takes to complete everyday tasks.
Getting out of bed…effort.
So. Much. Effort.
Wearing his clothes. Using his body wash. Spraying his deodorant in my bed.
It’s like a shadow of him is here.
As the days continue to pass I am finding myself more and more weary.
My nights are plagued with dreams, each different from the night before. Though they differ, one thing remains constant: Matthew.
Be it his presence or absence; he is central.
I wake feeling worn out and my day passes in the nightmare’s shadow.
Over the last few weeks I have struggled to even open my college books. On the rare occasions I manage to sit surrounded by text books and notes, I seem to only be able to concentrate for five or so minutes. It’s hopeless. I thought that study would be a positive thing for me to focus my energy into, but what happens when you have no energy to expel?
I often feel like a zombie and even the thought of having to study and complete my subject is wearing me down.
Is it possible that things are still getting harder and harder?
Is it normal?
‘If you are not praying, then you are quietly confident that time, money, and talent are all you need in life. You’ll always be a little too tired, a little too busy. But if, like Jesus, you realise you can’t do life on your own, then no matter how busy, no matter how tired you are, you will find the time to pray.’
– Paul E. Miller
Learning how to be a woman of prayer again.