Today was our first attempt at living normally. We were all up and crowded around the breakfast table shortly after six-thirty, perhaps a little less cheerfully than we ought to have been. Papa seemed tight-lipped and short of positive things to say, which no doubt bespeaks a knotted, nervous stomach on his first day at a job he’s still not sure what entails.
The rest of us had a lengthy—as in overly prolonged—powwow, discussing, rehashing, revamping, debating, detailing and scheduling out our new home and its various chores and responsibilities, as well as working up a new daily schedule, dishes schedule and cooking schedule to bring our collective life into some semblance of organization.
And all the while, all color fled from the sky and left it grey and damp, until at last, disheartened it began to weep cold, clear tears.
I hate dreary days. Especially when they fall on Mondays. Especially particularly anticlimactic Mondays. It feels as if a wet blanket of gloom was suddenly cast over the busy-but-happy existence we’d been enjoying—as if nothing of interest will ever happen again, and no one of interest will ever come to see us again, and we will never break out of our cold, little cocoon to go do anything of interest again. I would be entirely bored if there weren’t so much to do.
And no one has come tonight. Which partly seems a blessing, and I’m sure it’s because many of them realize that it was Papa’s first day at work, and we need to be alone sometimes. But it still makes me feel forgotten, somehow.
On a more cheerful note, the emerald green highlighter that Lindsey so graciously gave me yesterday has gotten quite a work-out today. I was up at five this morning, stowing the notes from Sunday safely in my Bible, and poring over the gospel of John, and Mark, and the Psalms, and Revelation and even some in Hebrews. It was delightful, and probably still would be, were I spiritual enough to quit my whining and go dive back into it.
Lord, I fill my loneliness
With those who praise Thy holiness
Instead of filling it with Thee.
How stupid will I ever be?
The fellowship they bring is good
Yet often is misunderstood
As being what I seek, instead
Of seeking Thou, my Daily Bread.