|photo by Jean Ann Williams|
“But even the hairs of your head are all numbered.”
On the Monday after Joshua’s memorial service, I had to start an online editing class or drop out.
I told a few family members how glad I was the class was an online one and not in a physical school. They looked shocked. Maybe they wondered how I could think of doing anything so normal that soon after Joshua’s death. In my heart, I thanked the Lord God, for it would be a respite from my reality. Though, there were hindrances I had to overcome.
I had to rise early to begin my editing class. Later in the day my crying spells began and grew worse as night approached, and I couldn’t think straight. Also, I discovered my attention span had shortened to ten minutes in the early grieving days. I pushed myself to expand my time at the computer for this class until I reached twenty minutes. More than that just wasn’t going to happen. My head hurt to concentrate for much longer.
That first day on Monday when I sat at my desk, my mind had to work hard to think, to bring about a string of coherent thoughts.
Maybe my family’s bewildered looks were just what I thought. How could I do something as basic as take a class? Joshua had ended his life six days before in the room next door. I shook my head. With God’s help I can. I turned on my computer—and sighed—relieved for some normalcy.
Father, before I registered for the class, You knew I would need this to keep my mind busy. Thank You, Lord. In Jesus’s name. Amen.