Growing Pains

Pottery class last night, therapist this morning.

 A late afternoon cup of coffee, half decaf, got me through the class without feeling like falling asleep. The last figure I glazed is out of the kiln. I was initially disappointed in the glaze, but the more I look at it the better I like it. It adds to the mood of the piece in an unexpected way, and although I think I know what happened to cause the effect, I am not entirely sure I could duplicate it. (The damp glaze must have rubbed off on my hand when I turned it over to wipe it off the bottom.) I'm not sure what I would call it if I were to give it a name. It is not quite so troubled as the one I called "Disappointment".

There were tears this morning. Unexpected tears.  My kids. They have been, and still are my greatest joy. I never imagined feeling so separated from them and so helpless to remedy the resulting ache deep inside. Once upon a time it was easy to schedule family gatherings, but today I feel crippled. Instead of planning dinners I am finding reasons why not to plan them. This is self defeating and crippling. It isn't good self care, and it isn't helping heal our brokenness. (*breathe deep*)

Tomorrow morning I have a short meeting with the woman who brought Celebrate Recovery to our church. She is not the leader, but has great influence over those who are. She was also once my eleventh grade English teacher. She is not warm and fuzzy, yet I know underneath is a caring woman who will (hopefully) hear the cry of my heart. I am going in response to my therapist's encouragement. I am not the only one to be hurt by this particular group. I need to be a voice for not only myself, but others as well. This is hard. I hope I don't cry. That would make my mascara run.