Mondays and Mornings

Mondays and mornings are my two hardest times right now.

Mondays have been feeling like a huge slap in the face. Sundays have been my respite, my refuge from the storm. I have been relishing in the spirit and the uplifting atmosphere of worship on the Sabbath and finding such great strength in that time. So Mondays when I have to face things like laundry, dirty bathrooms and fixing lunch it just feels so insignificant and overwhelming. I also have been placing my name on the prayer role each week as I have attended the temple. I realized that the temple is closed on Mondays, so it's the only day besides Sunday that I am not the beneficiary of many mighty prayers on my behalf. I think I need to fast on Mondays.

Mornings are the constant daily reminder that my life is different. Other than that first terrible night, I have been miraculously able to sleep during this ordeal. Eating is an entirely different story, but I have been able to sleep - often very hard and deep. So as I wake up each day, I feel the sorrow somehow anew. I have to process it all over again and come to the disheartening realization that this, in fact, is now my life. I am so grateful for prayer. We are praying together as a couple again for the first time in years and I am thankful he has taken to saying the morning prayer. It gives me an ounce of hope to cling to and makes it so I feel able to then kneel on my own and offer my own prayer.

Mondays and mornings - moments of sorrow renewed.