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Today I woke up feeling anxious.  Coursework from last week (the week I was in residence) has to be completed and an assignment written.  This week’s coursework, too, must be done.  I am not as far along as I expected with the packing but this week is it!  I must pack everything that is not nailed in place.  Richard is far away and I miss him.  The list goes on and on.  Yet, as I look at my “chaotic” list, I think of how fortunate that this is my chaos.  Richard has been gone for a matter of weeks.  I have friends whose husbands, wives, and significant others are gone for months or years, to places like Afghanistan and Iraq.  I have to pack up all my things to move to another place where there will be space for us with a roof over our heads.  I know folks who worked hard, paid their bills, but because of shady banking practices they lost their home and their possessions and must now rely on friends and family to sustain them as they try to get back on their feet.  I complain of the aches and pains of aging, but I’ve lost friends and family to cancer, heart disease, and AIDS.  All of them would have welcomed the signs of aging and growing older.  Instead their lives were cut short.  Even though I have friends who have endured the worst kinds of chaos and loss, each seemed to find a place of quiet calm in the midst of their storms. I learn from my friends.  I’ve learned that regardless of the “mess” we are in, there are places of retreat that calm our nerves, sustain our spirits, and rejuvenate our bodies and souls.  This is a spiritual thing. This is a place where we connect with the Divine and all that is holy.  This is a place deep within us where we discover our true priorities.  This is a place of peace and assurance that regardless of what is happening around us or what is happening to us, all is ultimately for the good.  We must trust that, put one foot in front of the other, and choose life and holiness as best we know it.  My chaos at the moment is not as drastic as all that, but it is chaos none-the-less.  And when I pause for a few minutes to center myself, I realize that I am grateful for the calm amidst the storm.


  1. I am sorry that we were not able to “ease” your chaos a bit this weekend. It is good, however, to put our lives in perspective. I love you Mom.

    • Hugs and kisses to you all, Sweetheart. Get well soon and we will have ample time to visit when Richard and I are settled in our new digs! We will be soooooo close! WOOHOO!

  2. Chana/Cecilia (I met you as the missing-tooth kid and find it almost impossible to switch gears)

    Good luck in the move, it will happen.
    Keep coming back to the calm, it is there.
    But you know these things very well!
    For what it’s worth, you have my wishes — and my admiration!

    • 🙂 So sweet! Thanks for the well-wishes. The missing-tooth kid is still here, still in awe of all that is wonderful and good and right with this world. I have to look a little deeper than when I was young, but it is still there for those who choose to see it. Yes, it is time to breathe, to center, to be. Thanks again for your kind words.

  3. Beautifully said! There is always relief to be had, calm to be found and peace in the storm when you look to the One who sees it all and waits for us to call on Him. Thanks for the pingback too! God belss you 🙂

    • Thanks for stopping by, Terri, and for leaving a beautiful comment. Blessings to you, too. Have a great day. 🙂

  4. Thanks and you as well!

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