When I first began my faith journey, I was afraid to pray. Afraid I was undeserving of God's love. Afraid I only deserved God's wrath and anger. Remember, this is the God that swallowed people into the earth (I was an Old Testament girl back then). Since my persistent image was I'd burst into flames if I prayed, I tried to imagine what would keep me safe. A wool blanket would smother flames quickly, I decided. So I took a blanket with me to worship and waited for the fires of heaven. They didn't show up. And I felt smiled upon. After a few weeks, I tried a wool scarf. Still no flames. Then a wool cap. Cool as a cucumber. Finally, it became my tradition to show up for worship with wool socks on my feet. I basked in the love of God and my first sense of conversation with the Divine. Plus, nice toasty toes!

* * *

I need the wool blanket equivalent for facing the process of divorce. Something to comfort, protect, buoy - that doesn't add pounds or increase dental carries. Why can't the prayer itself be the thing? Because prayer is of doing and I think I need something I can touch, or hold, or see.

It will be a good thing, divorce. The Hubby loves me and I love him. But I cannot keep myself safe from his wild financial choices (and other choices). He does not seem to know me, even after 10 years (7 in marriage) -- he can't remember that I don't like surprises, that I don't like large financial committments without prior planning, or even what my hair or eye color is. If he can't remember those sorts of basic things after all this time, he won't ever remember. And I can't trust him if I can't believe he'll remember who I am and what I need.

Ugh. Enough sad.

Appreciated today: The lovely sunny afternoon and cool breeze rustling in the leaves of downtown. I will miss summer, but autumn is my favorite season.

May you be blessed, -Otter