The Word* looks so beautiful to me today. It's refreshing.

*by this I mean the Holy Scriptures; the Word of God.

My brain popped open after work yesterday.  Walking to the bank and then the grocery store at the end of a weird, tumultuous week my brain popped open and I had a peek at how I've been away from God for a couple days.  Imagine.  If I were religious, I'd feel x times worse for being "away" at this Christmassy time of year but really, estranged is estranged.

I do regret that I probably missed out on some neat things He'd have done this week if I were open and paying attention. But today I can only move forward.  I wonder about the Scriptures sometimes.


It's on a day like today I really feel like I love my job.  I'm soaking into Scripture, music and poetry...Nevermind all the clerical stuff - sorting, filing, printing, photocopying, hole-punching, typing - which is also thoroughly up my alley.

I debated for several hours yesterday afternoon whether I'd come in to work after work (around 5pm) on Friday or write last night off and come in today, Saturday.  I'm very, very glad I made this choice.  Last night was dinner, shower, laundry, purging/sorting, writing overdue emails and an action movie.  Today, because I had enough sleep, because I had breakfast at home and brought lunch with me, because I set specific tasks and hours for work (so I don't feel like I'm here "forever" and missing my Saturday), because things are getting done and looking beautiful (it's the Scrip, lyrics and music that look beautiful) I'm happy to be here.  One of those days where it doesn't quite feel like work.  I mean, I got to use the word addendum.  Come on. I like it when I get to put in enough time to do everything I'd like to do.  Then there are no regrets and 99% of cringeful moments can be avoided.

--

embedded triet XLIV:

Now.  I wonder about my right hand.  I just came from practising for 40 minutes and Take My Life and Let it Be, the first song I played, was making my right hand hurt.  Yes, the stretching required to reach the notes written is a bit outside the norm but I've played this song before and I warmed up today so it shouldn't have hurt -- at least not right away!  I think my hand was sore across the knuckles

(1) because I was shovelling yesterday and the day before.  I shovelled the sidewalk from intersection to intersection on our side of the block

a) because I wanted to help out the neighbours who, if they are human, will also hate shovelling;
b) because I have trouble stopping what I call "patterns" part way through so the three-inch snow height difference between our property and the neighbour's was not going to happen;
c) shovelling is secretly exercise (says my CV system, back and arms) but not annoying because I'm getting something done; and
d) B could build snow forts forever so I thought I might as well do something productive while keeping an eye on him,

(2) because it's cold in this building and I haven't played (or thought about playing) piano since Monday.  This brings a pang of sadness

a) because to look to Monday, when I had the most meaningful, worshipful Christmas Eve service of my life, I need to look through Tuesday & Wednesday which found me dejected and sad,
  i) because I couldn't find my family, and
  ii) I am tired of being a nomad
and Thursday & Friday which seemed to get in the way of my life because they were too long and insurmountable,
   i) because I don't know how to take care of children
   ii) I didn't have money to take the kids out as I would have wanted to
   iii) I couldn't do work for my other job (which I also couldn't do Tuesday or Wednesday)
   iv) I couldn't kick the tiredness which I regret that the kids paid for
   v) I need to pack and move house on this coming Tuesday and ten-hour days with the boys make me allergic to moving and thinking;
b) the cold barrenness of this building often feels like a reflection of how I am not where I should be, how I am behind and perhaps of how I am not wanted or missed, and

(3) because yesterday evening I decided to open the hatch slightly and allow myself to express how I was feeling instead of trying to suppress. (An odd phrase recently found its way into my head and startled me because it's ludicrous but something I could say sincerely.  I said, "Feelings go away if you call them stupid long enough," and I meant it and it works.) I was inclined to open the hatch

a) because I felt there was nothing left [to do];
b) because a friend of mine recently encouraged me to let myself cry (which I modified to mean, let myself feel my feelings because I don't cry easily);
c) because I didn't want to burst.

Words flowed unfettered because I was talking to no one or to God who has seen and heard it before I knew I thought or felt it (but I still managed to curb swear words somehow, possibly because I was aware I was addressing the Father). And while I was annoyed that what I said wasn't sensible or what I wish I could say or something with an easy fix, I was glad it came out exactly as I felt/thought it.  I spoke freely enough that I started taking my [emotions] out on the couch cushion beside me.  I forgot that reclining couches have inner workings made of metal, so my hand hurts.


This trifecta of reasons bothers me but it's my life so I wrote about it.
As for the nested list, YES, this is really how I think except it's kinda like a starburst/pyramid.

There is more that I wish I could say.  I wish I could express the unsayable yeast that's worked its way through this whole batch of becauses but not everything I want is good.