I didn't wake in time to run this morning - Bob Green, Oprah's trainer (America's trainer!) says to exercise six times a day and I agree, then I commence to only do it twice a week. It's hard to get everything together at the same time. When I exercise, I pray. When I sit down and be still for a few minutes, I pray. But when I willfully fail to either exercise or sit still, it leaves praying while driving.
Though I didn't fill my lungs with jogging air this morning, a site outside my door filled me with oxygen: a beautiful spider had spun her web overnight and attached to the hanging fern and somewhere, I think the ground, but I made sure the kids and Jill wouldn't run into it and left her. She'll wrap it all up by the time the sun comes out, likely, so I just watched the gentle wind blow the tiny silk and marveled.
I got in Jill's van because I'm driving it today because it failed the Tennessee emissions test and needs taken to the shop to correct that, and I rolled my window down to say hello to my neighbor walking his black lab and carrying the lab's deposits in a plastic bag. Holding a plastic bag with that in it for your dog makes you at once a considerate neighbor and conflicted about who's the master of that relationship. We talked about his upcoming move, not the contents of the bag, by the way.
On the misty way to work I thought again about learning Spanish, prayed for my wife who's leading a Bible study at church today and thought about this line from a novel I'm reading right now, The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, a disturbing and haunting book narrated from heaven by a girl who was murdered. Of her parents, after her death and speaking while seeing them grieve for her, she says something like this - I don't have the book with me so I paraphrase:
All the times before one might be grieving and the other could comfort. Now they were both grieving and they didn't know how to do that. They didn't know how to touch one another.
6:39:46 AM 
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