Showers.

So I preached yesterday morning (see previous post) and went on to lead a Bible study, and went to the folks in law for lunch, and got a bunch of flowers from mom and went home.

Sat on the bed for a while, and then decided to take a shower.

I'm not sure what happened in my shower. But I ran out of life. I ran out of all that which was keeping me going. I ran out of giving, and caring, and profoundness.

And so I sat down in the shower. I watched the water pour off my face and felt grateful that I couldn't tell what was from the shower and what was from from my eyes.I let the water fall on my hands until they went numb. I watched how the water swirled before it disappeared down the drain. I felt amazed by how far above me the taps towered. I listened to how the sound changed from sounding like rain, to a gentle hum in the background. I let the shower curtain cling to the side of me, but it didn't occur to me that I should care. I felt tiny changes in the temperature of the water and contemplated using an entire geyser of hot water in one shower.

And I sat.
And I cried.
And Tim came and rescued me.