So far, this month has been hard.
Really, really, hard.
You know it's tough when a warm cup of salted caramel chai doesn't even fix what's wrong.
I'm sitting on my bed bawling like a baby because I can't find the key to my safe deposit box. It doesn't matter because there is nothing in my safe deposit box. But it costs $150 dollars to replace the key. I've looked in every conceivable, logical place. It's nowhere. And so I'm crying because I can't find a three inch, gold key.
Except I'm not.
I'm crying for the loss of my parent's pastor, who died last night from complications from H1N1 and pneumonia. He was fine not three weeks ago. I know because I was there and I heard him give one of the best sermons I've ever had the pleasure of hearing. You can, and should, listen to it here (Called "Eternity"). Incidentally, it was the last sermon he ever preached.
And I'm crying for my extended family--because something broke and I can't fix it.
I've tried to busy myself with things that need doing, to stay ahead of the tears, but sometimes, they just run faster than I can.
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