This is my dirty little secret for today. How some things feel entirely, entirely out of my ability to deal with or manage effectively.
Case in point: Sunday worship. Lent 1. Loved my sermon (better before I actually preached it, and got a great big "meh" vibe from the congo). But then communion... for which I'd hastily written a prayer I kinda loved... entirely. Fell. Apart. Smart and capable elders wandering around looking confused. Congregants scowling. Mags forgetting to serve (her favorite!) elder. Afterwards, all I could say to her was "I was rattled." "That's ok," she said. "I'll hold it over your head." Excellent!
My Lenten reading continues to provoke me in the area of forgiveness. There are things I love about the book, and things I do not. Something I do not love: cutesy "recipes" for reconciliation. And yet, there is wisdom in all the cutesy. The one I'm reading through right now begins with a "magnum" of memory, on the theory that forgiveness requires memory-- a lot of it, but not so much that you'll be swamped and washed away by it. This kind of hits me where I live. I have the ability to get totally drowned by painful memories, usually because I get ambushed by them. There I'll be, driving along down the street, and I'll see something or someone and.... bam, whoosh, it's five years ago and I am in enough pain to begin howling. (I usually don't). I'm working with someone to help me with this. But... sometimes I don't feel up to it.