It’s 8:30 on a Tuesday morning and I’m typing this at my kitchen counter. I’m sitting in a comfortable bar stool chair and there’s a cat on my lap. I’ve been up for 3 hours so I’ve moved on from my daily ritual of butter coffee to green tea, which I’m sipping while a batch of bone broth is cooking in my Instant Pot. I can see out the large window above my kitchen sink and through the tree branches there are mountains in the distance. Sheba just started kneading her paws on my legs and her claws are sharp even through my sweatpants, but she’s happy and content and so I let her. Tomorrow I’ll be trying to figure out why I have scabs on my thigh.
I fasted for 24 hours yesterday, having only two cups of broth and tons of water. I thought it would be hard and I was even prepared to cheat if I started to feel too terrible, but it was actually really easy. And now my body feels clean and empty and clear. After I finish this, I’m going to spend a half hour stretching and later today I’m going to do a hard, intense kettlebell workout and some fast rowing intervals. I have a painful shoulder and two knees that require special attention, but I’m strong and I’m healing.
I woke up feeling lonely because I’m alone so often these days and this is new for me. I just wanted to be waking up at my mom’s house in Minnesota and sit and talk to her about the Thanksgiving dinner menu while she eats her toast. But her home is in heaven now, and the void of her absence is still heavy.
Grief, doubt, fear, and regret are most powerful when I’m most vulnerable and that’s usually at dawn. There’s a moment upon waking when I’m half still dreaming and half conscious and that’s where the darkness finds me.
Today was one of those mornings.
Before I even got out of bed I saw a text from my sister. Before I even had a chance to turn my thoughts of loneliness over to God, I was heard and answered and I really can’t get over how cool it is when He’s right there before I even know I need Him. She had sent me a link to an article titled “Alone but Never Lonely: Walking Through Solitary Seasons with Joy.”
Today I’m grateful for being exactly where I’m supposed to be and for not having to fight my own battles.