It was a glorious night. The moon had sunk and left the quiet earth alone with the stars. It seemed as if, in the silence and the hush, while we her children slept, they were talking with her, their sister-conversing of mighty mysteries in voices too vast and deep for childish human ears to catch the sound.
They awe us, these strange stars, so cold, so clear. We are as children whose small feet have strayed into some dim-lit temple of the god they have been taught to worship but know not; and, standing where the echoing dome spans the long vista of the shadowy light, glance up, half hoping, half afraid to see some awful vision hovering there.
And yet it seems so full of comfort and of strength, the night. In its great presence, our small sorrows creep away, ashamed. The day has been so full of fret and care, and our hearts have been so full of evil and of bitter thoughts, and the world has seemed so hard and wrong to us. Then Night, like some great loving mother, gentlylays her hand upon our fevored head, and turns our little tear-stained face up to hers, and smiles, and though she does not speak, we know what she would say, and lay our hot flushed cheek against her bosom, and the pain is gone.
Sometimes, our pain is very deep and real, and we stand before her very silent, because there is no language for our pain, only a moan. Night's heart is full of pity for us: she cannot ease our aching; she takes our hand in hers, and the little world grows very small and very far beneath us, and, borne on her dark wings, we pass for a moment into a mightier Presence than her own, and in the wondrous light of that great Presence, all human life lies like a book before us, and we know that Pain and Sorrow are but the angels of God.
Only those who have worn the crown of suffering can look upon that wondrous light; and they, when they return, may not speak of it, or tell the mystery they know. (77-78)
After church on Sunday, there was a beautiful sunset and the sky was full of glorious pinks and purples. I wish I had taken a picture! But if a friend had not told me to look at it, I probably would not have noticed. I don't think I take the time to look at the beauty around me often enough. It is important to notice beauty though, because I think it helps us to be grateful.
Yesterday I went to the doctor and this gave me another instance to be grateful-my doc does NOT think that I have fibromyalgia after all, but common arithritis! This came as quite a surprise, since I thought it was too unusual for a 28-year-old to become arithritic, but he said that it wasn't that uncommon. In fact, he said that he had arithritis when he was my age and then it had mysteriously disappeared after a few months, so I feel even more hopeful and grateful than I did previously.
My doctor is giving me a new medication to help with inflammation and with pain. My fingers do hurt right now, although for an entirely different reason! I have been practicing guitar, because I got a new job and I am so excited! The job will start in a couple weeks and I will be teaching a teenager with a developmental disability life and social skills. This is what I was training for in music therapy and I will be able to use music therapy in my sessions with her. It seems outrageous, but if I had not had arithritis, then I might not have quit working at Sears, and then I might not have this job, which I know will be less stressful, less hours and more money. It feels good to practice guitar again. My skills are very rusty, and my fingers are sore, but it is a good kind of sore. At least today I am very grateful!