Meek in spirit

I'm supposed to be at Starbucks. Sipping on a skinny vanilla latte, replying to emails, writing on this-here blog, and maybe partaking in a tiny dessert to celebrate the 40 lbs I've recently lost. But instead my legs feel unsteady and I'm not entirely sure I can get up out of this chair.

There's nothing really wrong with me. My body feels fine and good, and life is somewhat calm on this rainy-ish day, at least for me and my clan. But there are literal and figurative storms brewing, aftermaths of destruction just three hours south of here, and hearts broken from a child suddenly gone just across the neighbourhood.

This leaves me feeling weak and impoverished, meek in spirit, mourning with those who mourn who I don't even know, have never met, unable to serve or comfort. In a text last night to a friend who is close to one of these, I find myself typing, "any old verse or thought about God just isn't gonna cut it. Only He can break the darkness here..."

It was - and is - a hard day to know the mind of God. I hate those days, in all honesty.