Yesterday was not a good day. I woke up ridiculously early (Mike had a 5AM flight; that means leave the house before 4:00). I had this sense that I had utterly failed at everything I think is important in life. By noon, seven of nine children had confirmed that reality for me. I don't look to the internet for support and encouragement on days like those. Really, I don't look to the internet for support and encouragement ever, not since the years the locusts ate. I "know better." For me, the worse the day, the more I go quiet. Whether online or in person, I just don't want to talk.
Yesterday, I had a post waiting to publish. Most posts this month are already queued up and ready, one of my strategies for managing time. I had taken an old post, written a quick intro on the evening of December 6th, and not really given it much thought.
You all read that post and somehow, you knew. You knew exactly what to say. I got up this morning and read your memories, your traditions. And, one after another, they shone hope on a dark morning. I have no idea which way this day will go. I'm not overly optimistic. But I am ever so grateful for warm grace in the combox. I'm incredibly blessed by your memories and I'm surprised by unexpected hope. So, thank you.