It’s been a bittersweet year for us here in Jacksonville.
In April, my mother could still walk with a walker, feed herself and converse with relative normality. Due to Alzheimer’s, she has declined in rapid stages since then.
She no longer…
For my mother, recovered from hospital yet confused and afraid as Alzheimer’s steals her memory.
For my partner, since she is his mother, too.
For my brother and sister and their families.
For my father, whose last, eldest sibling has died.
For my friend whose mother has just…
Being of melancholic temperament, my Quaker practice is occasionally reduced to long periods of inner struggle between faith and circumstance.
These are not periods of doubting God or of doubting that I can rely upon God.
Rather, they are periods during which I have difficulty finding God’s reassuring silence in the midst of my own emotional noise. Or, sometimes, in the midst of a kind of emotional shut-downness, when prolonged distress has dulled itself into exhaustion.