Blow after Blow

This last week has held another couple major blows in life.

I'm feeling pretty beat up as I lay here, getting ready to get out of bed.

I'm confused and hurting and oh so tired from nights in a row of restless rest.

So, this morning as I work to get myself up, I'm thinking about the kids book I wrote about here.

About this line from near the beginning, "Sidney felt broken.  And some days that made it hard to get up in the morning.  Some days, in fact, Sidney couldn't get up at all."

And these lines from near the end: 

As for Sidney, he still had his share of messes, though not as many as before.  And there were still a few days when he wasn't quite sure he could get up in the morning.  But if you stood outside his window on one of those days, this is what you'd hear:

"First of all, he loves me.  Secondly, he loves me.  And thirdly - He loves me."  

And that was all it took.

 
And as I lay here, feeling physically ill from the emotions and exhaustion exacerbated by the latest blow, I'm talking to myself, repeating as a mantra, "first, he loves me.  secondly, he loves me.  thirdly, he loves me."  Over and over again until my heart can again absorb the truth my head is trying to communicate to it.