Lately I've been feeling...introspective.
(Dennis may call it "brooding" or "being moody", but "introspective" is really more accurate. Really.)
I think it all caught up with me on Sunday.
Our church celebrated its 100th anniversary and my mind kept drifting to how much my Grandma Marjie would have enjoyed the day and the people who came.
Approaching the second anniversary of when my grandma died made it seem all the more prevalent. I blogged a bit about that time here.
Thinking about that brought to mind that she died on the Sunday of our pastor's going away party. His wife Jen is a dear friend and they moved FAR FAR away...so far away that it is quite possible that we won't see each other again this side of heaven.
And that made me think about the years that are behind me.
I'm young...I'm only 33.
But that's not really that young, I guess, and I've lived a lot of experiences in these 33 years.
I'm at the point in my life when:
I don't remember what my bigger kids did when they were little
I have friends who have moved away (I didn't experience this much as a child)
my remaining grandparents are aging quickly
I know people who have lost their spouse at my age
I have friends who have lost children
I have become an "older" woman to whom others come for advice
I have gray hair, wrinkles, skin tags, and varicose veins.
I have hurt and been hurt, loved and been loved.
I've loved so much it hurt,
and been hurt so badly that I wondered if I was loved.
I no longer feel invincible,
in fact, I often feel quite vulnerable.
I feel like I have learned much and yet I am continually humbled by how much I don't know.
I think of all the things I've learned the hard way,
the things that have hurt so much in order for me to learn them...
So while my hands have been busy caring for sick children
and the needs of the household,
my thoughts have been heavy
and my heart has been tender--
I've been feeling...introspective.