Last night's party at Grace's was good as far as potlucks go. Enjoyed the company, even though I was stuck there too late. Honestly, although I enjoyed everyone, it simply wasn't where I wanted to be. Thus, any time would have been too late. Checked the Sidekick for email and updates to LJ too often.
For the sake of irony, and perhaps a splash of insight or wisdom, I read my journal of a year ago yesterday:
On multiple fronts, I want to be able to do more than I can to straighten things out. I want to have some long talks, bust some heads, dry some tears (or just be sure there's a safe space for them to come), tie some loose ends, give some hugs, have some laughs, hold some hands, listen to some stories, tell some others, create some new ones, and make everything all right. My thoughts lead me to the brink of rash courses of action, in hopes that I could do something.Perhaps I should just run last year's entries again, because that pretty much covers it.
All so broken, with little the King's horses and men can do. Where I am powerless, I have prayer. I have to trust that my Father will care for those I cannot and that I will learn to be present in the ways that I should be.
But it's hard. I want to do more. I want to do something.