It's a lovely night. I'm here alone, the house is quiet, and it's raining. Of course I have the windows open - it's me, and it's above freezing outside. The peace of this night is overwhelming. I'm in the living room with my laptop and the dog is asleep at my feet. I could sit here and listen to the rain forever.
I've been crawling around in the back of my head and I'm finding some changes. It seems to center around the fact that the worst thing that can ever happen to me has happened. For the first time in my life, I'm not afraid of anything. I guess that, when you've faced your deepest fear, there is no fear left. I'm completely at peace with knowing that the Lord will do with me whatever He wants to. I don't care if I like it or not - I don't particularly like any of this, so it doesn't matter. My one preference was to never live without you - compared to that, I have no other desires.
I don't mean for this to sound defeatist or depressed, because it isn't. It feels like a wonderful freedom. I don't have to choose or care or worry. I don't fret about anything. For a woman my age to get a nursing job would take an act of God, so I will do what I can and leave the rest to Him. I have a doctor that would prefer that I don't work at all because of the fibro. If I end up on disability, selling the house, and moving into federally-assisted housing, that's fine too. I wouldn't have to worry about the yard or maintenance, and they would let me keep the dog, so that's fine with me.
I'm still working hard, and doing what I can to get a job that pays enough to live on. I'm spending only what is absolutely necessary ($20 for groceries this week), and acting like a grown-up and all. But I have no fear, worry, or anxiety about anything. You know how we've always said that, politically speaking, there is nothing more dangerous than a group of people with nothing to lose? Well, I have already lost the one thing on earth that mattered to me. And I'm finding that there is tremendous freedom in that. Maybe I've learned something about the limits of what I can actually control. I'm not sure - I will need to let more time pass, and spend more time in the back of my head. Maybe this makes more sense to you than it does to me. That's not right, it actually makes lots of sense to me - I just can't seem to put it into words. But that's never stopped you from understanding me before, so you probably do now, too.
Anyway, thanks for listening. I just want you to know that I'm not worried or afraid. I have no clue what's going to happen, and I'm completely at peace with that. And the rain sounds lovely, and the breeze is cool and smells like rain. And I love you so very much, more than I can ever say. But you understand that, too. Sleep good.