Maybe I'm just scared after all. Scott's surgery freaked me out last week. It reminded me of the fears I had when we first fell in love, the fear he would die and leave me alone in the middle of my life. And I got re-terrified. And then it seemed so crazy to go through with it, so crazy to marry someone who might actually die. Like, soon (realitively). And then I started to get angry - who was he to get sick, anyway? - and then I started to be annoyed by every little thing he did that was not exactly to my liking. And then the thoughts: "I can't live with that gesture for the rest of my life!" Or: "If he clears his throat like that ONE MORE TIME I'm out of here." Throw in too little sleep and lots of stress, and finally, I've arrived here: Scared he might die and scared he might live forever, and pissed off about either prospect.
I started this blog because I felt found. I felt like my life had arrived at some wide open space and I could get my bearings for the first time. I called it "City No Longer Deserted" after Isaiah 62:12: "And they shall call you sought-after, the city no longer deserted." And now I just feel blind again. Stupid, blind, and very grumpy about it.
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