...sometimes we pray, my friends and I. My friend in L.A. and the girls in NYC, we pray on the phone together. It's sort of fun and it feels oddly powerful. When we say our collective prayers I get filled with positivity. A certainty takes root in me and I know the seeds we sew together will blossom into reality. I feel peace.
In my life alone, sans beau, I sometimes get powerfully lonesome. I seek out, pray for, look to meet up with a fella to halt my aloneness. Inevitably I meet someone and what happens?
I hate to admit this, but as soon as I take on a partner of sorts, I lose my peace. I'm restless, misdirected until I'm re-disconnected and on my own and then I can again feel that peace.
For about 6 months now, my son's been coping with something that no one can pinpoint a cause for. Today in a nearby hospital for a few hours of testing I found myself utterly peace-less. In between consultations and time killing games of eye-spy, where everything we spied was grey, black or biohazard red, I prayed silently. I prayed for him, for his long life, his ever upbeat ways and constant smile. I prayed as I always do for his fully restored health and I prayed for peace.
I will never take for granted health or wealth or my children, nor my friends, not my family, my home, my life and never the peace that only heaven provides me.
Sometimes I write a blog that seems to have no point... and I feel peace.
