I have been trying for 3 days to write.
My brain is shrouded in an enormous fog bank. Feels like something’s there- I just can’t grab hold of it.
Moody and blue.
All during the week my head wasn’t where my feet were.
Perhaps it’s setting our clocks back. For me, this marks the true beginning of winter. Dark… Cold… Hard… a constant struggle. Could be anticipation of the election looming over us and what’s to follow. Same words, different event. Maybe it’s a bit of both.
And no wine to gladden the heart.
No, not for this passage. Darn good thing because I’d be drinking quite a lot of it.
These thoughts are the fallout of a self-indulgent state of mind. I’m too wrapped up in myself. The only chance I have to get out of this is to offer myself in service.
Time to visit the nursing home and count my blessings.
Thanks be to God.