He doesn't smile with His eyes anymore when i move to kneel at His
feet. His head gives a slight admonishing shake and i am beckoned back
upward.
"slave, fetch my drink" has been replaced with "sit down, girl"
This is my new normal.
The girl who spent a good deal of her years hanging off rock faces
and skating through shopping centers now sometimes has trouble climbing
up stairs.
A spelling bee champion and lover of literature can't seem to recall
words once a fixture in her vocabulary, and peers at paragraphs of more
than 2 or 3 sentences, struggling to focus.
This is my new normal.
i rage, i grieve. He's gently distant and distantly gentle. i'm not
the same creature that two years ago could run and jump into His arms or
endure the heaviness of His hand. To say it's not missed would be a
lie.
Our small measures of affection have changed. Instead of curling at
His feet, i'm curled in His arms, and He holds me, but fears hurting me.
This is our new normal.
Remembering what day of the week it is presents enough difficulty, i certainly couldn't recall what 'normal' felt like, before. There is just this, now. i don't look
sick, no, but every day that passes i am less "me" than i was. One day,
maybe, i'll be more myself again. It will be pleasantly shocking,
because...
this is my new normal
...for now.
