*******************************************
TO SEND THIS DAYS BLOG
TO A FRIEND
RUST ON MY SOUL (A Novel) (Published by Bridge Press in 1985 & Distributed Internationally)
*******************************************
INTRODUCTION (Repeated for those new to the series)
In an old loose leaf notebook, Thomas Kettering wrote when there was a cry from his heart. He wrote when his inner longing spilled over into the reality of his days. He did not write every day, only when he felt he must. How often he wrote or when is not important. The journey is what counts, for it is a diary about all of us, to all of us. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” and even a stumble is a step.
Evening
I haven’t put in my order for sackcloth and ashes but neither am I comfortable mumbling a twentieth century version of Marie Antoinette’s “Let them eat cake.”
I know some people want something for nothing. I’ve often suffered from the same malaise. But setting up a table only for me, myself and I has put my life somewhat out of sync.
Later in the evening
I’ve come to the point where I actually look forward to my musings. My seventh inning stretches. It was painful in the beginning but I need this overview.
I need a map for this jigsaw puzzle of life scattered across my table of time. If I am to understand and improve I must look well at what has passed.
Late night
“Hello dad.” Just like that, Connie walked back into our lives, “May I come home?”
Oh, thank you, God! Yes, yes, yes, you may indeed come back home, Connie. After all these weeks of not knowing if she was alive or dead, starving or selling her body for money to survive, sick or healthy, miserable or happy. Yes, Connie, you may most certainly come home.
All my fettered emotions still held me captive. I longed to rush over and hug her and shout “Hallelujah” but instead I sat there, pinned in the chair by my own paralyzing restraint.
Nancy suffered from no such problem. She had just walked into the room and in a moment they were in each other’s arms.
Finally I made myself join them, but the sweet release that my arms and emotions cried out for did not come. Damn my frozen exterior!
Why can I write of love and caring on these pages so easily and find it nearly impossible to express it out there?
There has been no serious talk of what happened during those weeks. We have settled none of the problems that still exist, but for right now this is enough.
Tomorrow, or next week, we’ll talk. We’ll try to put into words all that should have been discussed before. But right now it is enough to have Connie safely back.
I’m exhausted from today’s emotional kaleidoscope; anger, shock, relief, love (overwhelming relief and love). Perhaps I will sleep the whole night through again. Maybe now the nightmares will stop.
Thank you, God.
**********************************
TO BE CONTINUED
GO BACK AND CATCH UP
***********************************
A New Series on
PAIN AND PROBLEMS
began on this blog “Wyrick’s Writings”
and will continue until finished.
Then a new Series on PRAYER will begin..
To view an abundance of unusual stories by Neil Wyrick go to his other blog ONE A DAY, YOUR SPIRITUAL VITAMINS
Click on the following URL
http://oneadayyourspiritualvitamins.blogspot.com/
*****************************************
TO SEND THIS DAYS BLOG
TO A FRIEND
JUST CLICK AT THE BOTTOM
OF THIS BLOG ON “TELL A FRIeND”
For Neil's "One a Day Your Spiritual Vitamins"
Click on the following URL
http:oneadayyorspiritualvitamins.blogspot.com
*******************************************RUST ON MY SOUL (A Novel) (Published by Bridge Press in 1985 & Distributed Internationally)
*******************************************
INTRODUCTION (Repeated for those new to the series)
In an old loose leaf notebook, Thomas Kettering wrote when there was a cry from his heart. He wrote when his inner longing spilled over into the reality of his days. He did not write every day, only when he felt he must. How often he wrote or when is not important. The journey is what counts, for it is a diary about all of us, to all of us. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” and even a stumble is a step.
Evening
I haven’t put in my order for sackcloth and ashes but neither am I comfortable mumbling a twentieth century version of Marie Antoinette’s “Let them eat cake.”
I know some people want something for nothing. I’ve often suffered from the same malaise. But setting up a table only for me, myself and I has put my life somewhat out of sync.
Later in the evening
I’ve come to the point where I actually look forward to my musings. My seventh inning stretches. It was painful in the beginning but I need this overview.
I need a map for this jigsaw puzzle of life scattered across my table of time. If I am to understand and improve I must look well at what has passed.
Late night
“Hello dad.” Just like that, Connie walked back into our lives, “May I come home?”
Oh, thank you, God! Yes, yes, yes, you may indeed come back home, Connie. After all these weeks of not knowing if she was alive or dead, starving or selling her body for money to survive, sick or healthy, miserable or happy. Yes, Connie, you may most certainly come home.
All my fettered emotions still held me captive. I longed to rush over and hug her and shout “Hallelujah” but instead I sat there, pinned in the chair by my own paralyzing restraint.
Nancy suffered from no such problem. She had just walked into the room and in a moment they were in each other’s arms.
Finally I made myself join them, but the sweet release that my arms and emotions cried out for did not come. Damn my frozen exterior!
Why can I write of love and caring on these pages so easily and find it nearly impossible to express it out there?
There has been no serious talk of what happened during those weeks. We have settled none of the problems that still exist, but for right now this is enough.
Tomorrow, or next week, we’ll talk. We’ll try to put into words all that should have been discussed before. But right now it is enough to have Connie safely back.
I’m exhausted from today’s emotional kaleidoscope; anger, shock, relief, love (overwhelming relief and love). Perhaps I will sleep the whole night through again. Maybe now the nightmares will stop.
Thank you, God.
**********************************
TO BE CONTINUED
GO BACK AND CATCH UP
***********************************
A New Series on
PAIN AND PROBLEMS
began on this blog “Wyrick’s Writings”
and will continue until finished.
Then a new Series on PRAYER will begin..
To view an abundance of unusual stories by Neil Wyrick go to his other blog ONE A DAY, YOUR SPIRITUAL VITAMINS
Click on the following URL
http://oneadayyourspiritualvitamins.blogspot.com/
*****************************************
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