Just about the time, I think I’m getting stronger— dry eyes for a week, energy enough, a couple of hearty laughs — the smallest thing happens. The lid on the jar is stuck. A spider on the ceiling is out of my reach. I find his work badge.
Or
A piece of mail arrives for Bill. Someone says his phrase. His favorite meteorologist jokes about the weather.
Or
The remotes confuse me again. There’s a puddle under the car. I meet my neighbor named Bill.
The smallest thing triggers the deepest pain. What’s the word? Torrent? Slammed? Under?
How about fragile.
In those moments, I realize I’m not so strong, in fact I’m fragile. I’ve got a ways to go. I believe I will be strong one day. I will hear our song and sing along with a steady voice and a heart smile. But right now I’m rather… fragile.
2 responses to “Fragile”
Heavenly Fat, please hold Kathy in the palm of you hand, where she can rest and find relief. You are near the broken hearted. Please hold Kathy near and comfort her. Thank you for your love and care for us. In Jesus precious name, amen.
Tears. Thank you for your prayer. Prayer, like a bowl of cereal before bed, feels so so good and gets me through the night. I am so very very thankful that you lift me before the Father. What an honor to be in your prayers!