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The day is dark and dreary September 10, 2007

Filed under: dream,life,religion,school — bookwritegirl @ 11:10 am

The day is dark and dreary/ the rain is never weary…

“Rainy Day” by…I think Wordsworth?

 Exactly how I feel right now. I’ve felt worse, but really, I don’t feel like I’m accomplishing much. Maybe I’ve overloaded myself? That’s a distinct possibility. 18 credits, school newspaper staff, student senator, pro life group, among other activities, plus the usual helping out at home. Plus I have a cold so I’m either sleepy and miserable, or drugged up and sleepy.

 And I’m feeling like Mother Teresa right now. I’m holding tight onto my belief in God, and yet I wonder…Perhaps it’s Divine Providence that I read about a grandma, who, when she was younger, had a misscarriage. When she died, those surrounding her deathbed saw her perk up (she was barely concious), reach forward, and cradle an invisible baby with a huge smile on her face, then she died, still smiling.

 That to me is proof enough, and it’s keeping me from going into a full doubt. Then I read something else today, somebody wrote about lounging by the pool with God, talking to him, but he never replies. No wonder atheism is so appealing, if you look for something there, and don’t find anything, then there must be nothing. That’s their logic. And yet when you sit in utter stillness, you feel the lifeforce, some beautiful music by which we live our lives, and that’s how we know Somebody is there.

 I love the footprints poem. “it was then I carried you…” Plus, I woke up from a nice dream this morning. It wasn’t the absolute best, but it was enough for me. I was in a class, with this crabby guy next to me. The class was held in a skeleton of a house, you could see its bones, though it had a wood floor and some walls. Anyway, it was a Music class, and the teacher began “It was the first Noel” and after a while, I joined in. I knew my voice wasn’t the best, but I sang anyway, focusing only on the words and music. Then the class was over. Then somehow I made my way back up to the classroom, went to the back, where the floor sloped away from the rafters. When the floor was too far away, I pressed myself against the side of the rafters, it was small enough for me to do that without worrying about falling. And I was still singing the First Noel over and over again. I wanted to be invisible and secure. And that was my “safe place”. Then I woke up, unfortunately. But for that small moment when I was by myself, despite the kids on the lower level, I didn’t  care about them. I was protected. I was safe. And that got me going this morning, and I hope the feeling will come back so I can make it through the rest of the day.

 It was the first Noel, the angels did say, unto certain poor shepherds in fields where they lay, in fields where they lay, keeping their sheep On a cold winter’s night that was so deep. Noel, noel noel noel, Born is the king of Israel

They looked up and saw a star Shining in the east beyond them far To the earth it gave a great light And so it continued both day and night Noel noel noel noel Born is the king of Israel.

Be still sad heart and cease pining/Behind the clouds the sun is still shining/Thy fate is the common fate of all/In each life some rain must fall/Some days must be dark and dreary.


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