It's that kind of day.
You know the one I mean? The kind of day when you are sort of wading through emotions that are all muddled like colors in a child's fingerpainting, and you can identify the emotions in the mix but can't really pick one out, so you just stare at the whole mess and wish somehow you could shake it like an Impressionistic Etch-a-sketch and come up with something that resembles a Monet masterpiece, something that may not look perfectly like what you think it should but is at least recognizable?
Yep. That kind of day.
Wanting to be by myself curled up with a blanket and a cup of coffee watching a favorite movie...and wishing a friend would show up with an invite to Starbucks.
Thinking this single life works and I can live like this and wishing I had some to curl up with on the couch and feel his arm around me.
Thanking God for the long list good stuff has gone on today but still wanting to cry because...because.
Because of all the stuff I can't put into words...all the stuff mooshed together in the fingerpainting that I can't quite shake into something that looks like real life.
And I want to tell someone, but really, what do I say? "My fingerpainting is broken, and I can't fix it"? Uh, yeah. They are sure to get that.
So I say nothing.
Instead, I ask.
I pick up my phone, look through the contacts, pick a name, and ask, "How are you today? Can I do anything?"
I pick up my computer, type in a name, write an email, and ask, "How is your day going? Is it better?"
I pull out my card box, address the envelope, open the card, and ask, "Do you know I'm thinking about you and praying for you? If not, I am."
I answer the phone, listen to the voice filled with anger or tears waiting to fall, and ask, "Do you need to scream?"
I get on my knees (literally and figuratively), and I ask, "Daddy, who needs me to pray for them right now?"
A name comes to mind, and I ask, "Daddy, please reach where they are. Please reach into wherever they are and meet them there. Whatever they need. Whatever they need to hear. Whatever they need to know. Oh, Daddy, give them that something. Meet them there."
The words come and so do the tears because I understand they are wading through their own life fingerpainting, trying to find some answers, trying to find some clarity, trying to find...something.
Who knows? Maybe me on my knees is the exact something they need.