Just in case you've not stepped over to the newer blog "Abbie in Wonderland", yet, I encourage you to do so. It's still me, and it actually updates itself on your blog-stream thingy. Seriously contemplating closing this one, much as I love it, if I can't get that feature to work again.
Anyway, things are shaking and being shook in our little town. I wish I didn't feel like I lived in a soap opera at times.
When it gets right down to it, I know that God is in charge, and therefore, He will work everything out for our good. At the same time, the enemy of our souls goes about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may destroy. Too bad JESUS took that lion's teeth out when He took my spot on the cross. Like my Dad would say: "the devil's a PUNK!" with his best imitation of Clint "Squinty Clinty" Eastwood.
By the way, I want to mention that this week my Dad woulda been 72 years young. He's been up in Heaven for 12 years, now and it still hurts like the day he left. Just not as often. Memories are like a hot coal, I can get close enough to see the beauty, and feel the warmth, but I just can't HELP from touching it; KNOWING that it's going to hurt a LOT.
I was talking to a nurse the other day and she mentioned that she'd lost her Dad, and we got to talking about that pain. I asked her how long it'd been, and she said "11 months". I'm not sure but I'd bet I was still trying to remain numb at that point. It's funny. I discovered that in times of extreme sorrow and/or fear, my brain & body can somehow manage to numb themselves. Maybe it's related to sleeping being my favorite escape (since recovery). IDK.
Blessings to you all. This too shall pass.