what becomes of the broken hearted?

Nothing long-winded, wise, or witty to say today.

Just a sad sigh of exhaustion.  A prayer.  And a short reflection.

Yale and I are clinging to each other in a different way this week, with sad news crunching down on us from other places.  Other people's griefs, heart breaks, tears.  The deep sadness of loss and impending loss.  Years of aching, and new shocks of bad news.  Or just hard stuff.  Hard to live, hard to hear, hard to carry.

As I was walking AugDog last night, I thought about how somehow the Lord has brought me to a place of relative calm right as the world has begun to fall apart for people that I love.  Before Mom died, I'm pretty sure these sadnesses and griefs would have been too much for me.  I would be paralyzed with fear and the creeping cold that freezes your heart right when you need it the most.  But I don't feel that way.  I am not afraid.  Angry, confused, exhausted, and steely, but not afraid.  And I thanked God for that.  And asked Him to get me ready to be unshakable in Him for whatever comes next for these dear ones. 

Let me just say, feeling "not afraid" is a serious SERIOUS deal.  I lived so much of my life in constant fear.  I'm sure I will still feel afraid sometimes.  Probably every time I swim in the ocean, for example, because I have not been able to shake that irrational fear of sharks, but in the real dry-earth world, I am feeling remarkably unafraid.  Thanks be to God. 

So, loves, I am praying.  I am praying and loving the best I can. If you see me trembling, it is probably from coffee-induced tremors.  Maybe tears.  But not fear.