Jumble

So we've decided to go for it. We're keeping the option open to still try this next cycle, but we've not decided either way.

Honestly, I do identify with your sentiments, xbox. This is one aspect of the Fast that I don't understand. I've seen the effects of abstaining from and limiting food. I know it's valuable. But this I don't see yet. I think, generally speaking, it makes the Fast even more relational. Maybe it also acknowledges the great good sex is by saying, "Hey wait, save that for the times of feasting." I'm not sure. In a month, I should know. Cheers to April 19.

There is something to the respite that the elimination of hope provides. We've done that once before, back in the fall. And in a way, the whole month was much calmer. There was no 2.5ww to worry about. But there's another side of me that just aches. All the time. And saying, "OK, I'm going to voluntarily continue this ache for another month" just does not appeal.

Of course, the next few days could alter everything. Not the commitment to abstinence, that we'd hold to, but we're sitting pretty on CD30. *snort* I estimate Thursday will be the end.

It's very funny, because just yesterday, I was telling a friend that I feel like I'm beyond the strong emotions of all this. I seem to have settled in to a detached pessimism. I mean, I know "eventually" it'll happen, but I'm really not anticipating it to be this cycle... or next. The minute you say such things, things change. I've found myself feeling just so very raw all day today. I don't want to hear about babies, or adoption, or anything really. I just want to sleep. Or eat a cheeseburger. Neither of which are going to happen today.

Now might be a good enough time to explain the origin of this blog's title. There's a song, called "To Say Thanks" (I think) by an artist called Nicole Nordeman. Now, should you listen to it, keep in mind that not all of it would apply to me. But there's an interesting question posed in the second verse: "Even fields of flowers / Dressing in their best because of You / Knowing they are blessed to be in bloom / But what about November / When the air is cold and wet winds blow / Do they understand why they cant grow?" I'm seeking to answer that. So far, I've come to this. No, they don't understand why. But the why isn't always important. It's enough to know they can't grow right now. And yet, Thanksgiving falls in November. "I will offer thanks for what has been and what's to come. You are Autumn." is another line from Ms. Nordeman.

So, for now, I will refer back to something written on the board of my dorm room door many years ago: "Let sorrow be as gain, not loss. Purpose that I might find You here."