You know those days when your tongue moves super slow and your thoughts won't form the way you want them to? The world is on a slight tilt, and the order of steps seems out of reach.
That's how the first 48 hours has been for me. It's not so much the being without the love of my life and their daddy. It's the disruption in routine; the wondering of what the new routine will look like and will bring. The emotions that are there, just holding at bay but not quite to the surface.
So, instead, I gardened. Somehow digging in the dirt gives a purpose to the time. It's instant productivity, and exhausting effort. If I can't take a break from the normalcy of life, maybe I can avoid it for awhile. Or, maybe I can make myself tired enough to let it pass by quickly.
Digging in the dirt always brings me to God. There's usually a lesson out there for me, if I turn over enough shovelfuls. Tonight was no different, but more subtle. The simple reminder that the world is still going, still turning, and progressing the way He wants it to. And it'll continue to do this for another 248 days (more than likely, even longer!). Even when my thoughts aren't in order, His are--always. I hope I'm not the only one who derives a settling peace from that knowledge.
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