I am not sure if Jesus felt disappointment during his last days,
but it seems to be an appropriate sentiment
for the next few days.
At least, that is where I am at in my heart.
Huge disappointment prevails,
and I need to walk with it the next few days,
attend to it,
and not let it embitter me,
but allow it
to move through me,
rest in me,
I am not feeling forsaken,
but a bit of desolate abandonment
is spilled in little dank puddles in my soul,
the kind that don't dry up in the sun right away
after a rain,
the ones that sit there, and get clogged with oil and broken bits of leaves and dead bugs.
A spiritual issue,
a spiritual pining and wondering...
May I uncover the Holy in this slog of journey the next few days.