Every so often, I go through this phase where I read lovely blog posts and want to comment, but change my mind because I seem to just be about me. I want to say something because I want others to know I'm reading and that I care, but I can't figure out what to say. Except something about me that is sparked by what I read. And so I say nothing.
And at the same time, I feel bad that I don't get many comments on this blog. And I have to re-evaluate yet again why I want a blog. I wanted a place to write, yes. But I think it's because I so deeply crave connection that I just can't seem to find. I'm trying here in my new place--to be less worried about what I say or who I am. But it's hard to make friends--who wants to be friends with their pastor? And I don't know that I want to initiate friendships--as in, invite certain people over for dinner and not others. Sigh.
But that doesn't seem to matter when I think of one connection this morning. Baby Girl wiped out on our new tile floor--barefoot, I'm not quite sure how she managed to slip where she did, but she cried harder than usual. No blood, no immediately obvious place of pain. And she let me pick her up and snuggle with her. Normally a owie involves a bit of a cry, a 'do you need a kiss?', 'yes,' a kiss, and then she's done and ready to go. Today she snuggled and even though she stopped crying, she just wanted to snuggle and nothing else. It was probably ten minutes--that's a long time for her these days. (Unless we are snuggling watching tv) It was so nice--an especially good thing for mommy as I prepared to take her to her new daycare for the first day today. That is, I guess, another post for another day.