This has been a quiet day.
I left the house before my roommates were awake this morning. Headed out for an appointment for a massage.
After the massage came the library, then home briefly, before heading out to an art/handicraft sale in Kensington with a friend. Bought a tin of tea from a friend who sells quite nice fair-trade, organic teas. After the sale we ate nachos in a Mexican restaurant and caught up. We walked a little, and headed home.
I made a mistake exacerbated by my fair skin today. I didn't wear sunscreen, and since a sunburn often doesn't show up on my skin until hours later, I am just beginning to pay the price, and don't know yet what the full extent of the damage will be. However, I made one even more calculated error. Not only did I fail to apply sunscreen, but I went out with the remnants of massage oil still covering every inch of my skin. So I may have exacerbated the burning a little. Oh well... I suppose that's what God made aloe vera for.
I feel a bit as if a blanket of silence has descended.
As if I'm waiting for the other shoe to fall.
I wrestle still with some big things. And I guess that's going to have to be okay.
I'm praying still for the season to shift. I need some changes to occur.
In the meantime, I'm trying to wait patiently. To pray with the friends that offer. To spend time with the people with whom I am able to be at least partially myself, without masks.
To work on the list of dozens of things that need to be accomplished before we move next weekend.
To find rest in the fleeting moments that it comes.
To pray.
To read.
To listen.
To think.
To wait.
(and hopefully, soon, to cry.)
I'm tired. And I need change to come. I'm longing with an inner groaning that I don't know how to express.
It will come.
It has to.
