Complex Philosophical Questions

Dear John,

 

I'm sorry I dumped on you last night. Things always look their worst in the wee hours of the morning. Someday I will learn - and actually remember - not to blog that late. I'm not feeling any better today, but have an inexplicable improvement in morale. And that is good.

 

I wonder how many times I've told you that I'm sorry for dumping on you. Every time you said the same thing - that you didn't feel dumped on. You were happy to listen to me and to know what I was thinking and feeling. There isn't anybody to do that now, so I'm glad I can talk to you here. I still miss having you ask me every night how my day was. So I assume the question and answer it for you!

 

All of this struggling that I'm doing right now seems to be just another layer of learning to live without you, and it's a hard one. Loads are lighter when shared, and I'm feeling the weight of having all the responsibilities. I need to learn that it was the Lord Who provided, and the Lord Who provided you. And He will continue to provide. Feelings of helplessness are paths to faith and humility, both of which I need. We humans are very helpless, contingent creatures, after all, though we pretend we have power and authority. Our very being is a gift.

 

So please continue to pray for me while I wrestle through this layer. It's not about the circumstances; it's about my reaction to them. Maybe this is what Lent is about for me this year. Last year it was about letting go of you. Now it seems to be about letting go of me. When I put it that way, it should be a breeze compared to last year! I'd much rather live without me than without you, though that poses all kinds of complex philosophical questions. Wouldn't you love to pose that one at one of those late-night Honors Program parties we went to in college?

 

I'll try to listen to you as well as talk to you. I need your wisdom. And your arms around me. And your clothes to wash. And you to watch the NCAA tournament with. Just you!

 

I love just you with all my heart,

Joan.