The inevitable...

I have been hankering to try this Mexican food restaurant I oft pass by because it looks like a hole-in-the-wall sort of dive.  In the DC metropolitan area, those were the only Mexican restaurants who had any sort of notion about real Tex-Mex.  Frankly, since my last visit South in 2005, I have not had a proper plate of refried beans.  I miss them terribly!

Last night, while driving back from Chili's—oh, those chocolate shakes—with Sandra, I mentioned that I wanted to try that place.  I had, in fact, mentioned the same to my realtor and my neighbor when out and about with them.  Much to my surprise, Sandra said we already did.  I thought she might be pulling my leg.  She wasn't.

I do not remember a single moment of being at that restaurant with her.  Her telling me then or in the time that has passed since.  Nothing.  Not a single moment, glimpse, glimmer, smidgeon of memory of going there with them.


I wanted the world to just stop.
Stop for a moment.
It did not.

Yet what does it really matter that I do not remember?  

Being an avid fan of sci-fi fan, I feel like I am on the accretion disk of a black hole, frantically trying to ignore where I am, what's coming next.  When I am faced with such moments, I tend to do anything and everything to turn my sight away from what is before me.  After all, if the world does not stop and take note, neither shall I.

Cleaning, organizing, writing, watching shows and movies, grooming Amos, begging others for volunteer work, reading, and hiding.  Hiding in the Living Word.  Hiding in the Book of Concord.  Typing out all the psalms for the Praying the Psalter blog—especially the work of 119—has been an incredible blessing, hiding and thinking and savoring all wrapped up in one.  A sort of sorrow is creeping over me as I approach the end of this task.

I have a new project, but it is so large, rather enormous actually, that I am hankering for something achievable sooner.  I found myself prowling about the house, looking for something, anything, that I could organize, reduce, simplify.

It is just me.
Just my small and oft silly life.
And yet I still want the world to stop and take note.

There is nothing in my mind from that dinner with Sandra and Isaac.  Nothing.  Not only a day lost, but one that passed as if I never existed.  The blankness within is growing, swallowing ever more of my life, of me.


I am Yours, Lord!  Save me!