And it has been an odd week. Sometimes I wonder if there are viruses around which consists of moods, so that you don't get cold or flu, but you get angry or sad, bewildered, tentative; stuff like that.
So this week I've felt like I was carrying around the weight of someone else's mood, detached, tired, sore in my legs and feet; wanting to hide under the covers and whimper softly with a cat to warm me and the light soft behind the closed drapes - which is how I spent yesterday, in bed with nascent symptoms of the cold-flu which never quite matured. So maybe they were vestiges of someone else's bad day, hurtling through the ozone, that landed on my head. Perhaps they came from a family member, maybe not. Maybe someone I never knew sneezed out all the dis-ease they were carrying and I caught it. Stranger things have happened: the universe is pretty big.
But today got better, I prayed some, ministered a bit, got ministered to in return, listened and talked to varous folk, felt chaplinesque enough, like I was doing what I am paid for, what I am supposed to do. Maybe I even needed that day in bed with the psychic flu, I am surely better for giving in to it.
I am very lucky that God - and some very nice people too - loves whimps.