Conciousness

I woke up to a blanket of new snow covering the ground. I love the snow, with its clean, quiet newness. But today has been an odd day. I am still in the sensitive emotional aftermath of yesterday's shooting, where I don't necessarily sit around crying, but I let everything get to me in over-exaggerated ways. I am mentally in a stand-still, thinking things through, trying to find answers to questions too quickly, contemplating the eternal, reminding myself that my family is safe. I find I am irrationally frustrated at the world around me. Finn brought me a lego "sandwich" that he asked me to separate. When I couldn't budge the center piece, I realized I was getting too worked up over it. I had to tell him I just wasn't strong enough to do it for him. "That's ok, Mama," he reminded me.

It didn't help that I slept too little and dreamed too much. My alarm went off early, while the light was still blue. I threw on my warmest sweater, and went to yoga for the first time in a month. I was stiff, out of practice, longing for an afternoon nap. I think my spirit feels this way when tragedy strikes, even if it is removed from my immediate existence. I feel out of my comfort zone, and I draw upon truths that I know will comfort me. But I am so used to general comfort in my life that I have to break in my emergency supply of strength. That sometimes takes a while to get used to. Answers come in their own time. Peace follows slowly.

Yesterday I read a quote first thing in the morning about getting your house in order. Oddly enough I had planned to reorganize the massive toy situation, while Wes had planned to secure some extra emergency essentials for our home. At the store, we wound up and down the aisles together, stocking up on medical supplies and longer-term food storage. Wes and I talked on and off about school security, and our frustration over what we could personally do to ensure our children's safety when they are away from us. Maya was a happy blur around us, delighting the sales associates and assessing the toy aisle (oblivious to the troubles of the world, as usual). With every well-thought-out item in our cart, my feelings of personal security and preparedness at home settled nicely into place. I traded my uneasiness over things out of my control for faith in the things that are within my control.

It was raining when we picked Finn up from school. Wes went in to his classroom to personally bring him back to the car (he's been sick and we didn't want him to stand out in the drizzly cold of the carpool crowd). Later the rain turned to snow as we left the kids with a babysitter for the first time since moving to Utah. We came home to two happy, safe kids, begging for us to stay out later. After putting the kids to bed in their own room (something they usually struggle with, but they obliged last night), I fell asleep mid-prayer for the families back east, while the white snow fell quietly, covering the dark earth.

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. ~Proverbs 3:5-6