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“If winter comes, can spring be far behind?” — PB Shelley

Cold rain licks my cheek and we begin another day. Jacob hands me my coffee in a silver tumbler. Gloomy days are the worst days for one to get moving. Somehow, God knows what I need to hear to quell consuming thoughts: “‘Be still, and know.’ In the hour of distress, you cannot hear the answer to your prayers . . . You must rest, O soul, to receive your heart’s desire” (George Matheson). I walk into work and find a bench in the dark. I try to sit still. I’m not good at it. I shift my weight from one foot to the other and attempt to clear my mind. I think I manage for about 30 seconds before I shove my bags back over my shoulder and mosey on to my classroom. What is so hard about being still and having a noiseless, patient spirit? Caring about me makes it hard. Worrying about me makes it hard. “My constant friend is he: His eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me.  I sing because I’m happy, I sing because I’m free, for his eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me.”

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