Sunday, November 20, 2005

Out Of Touch

Today is not much different than yesterday, or the day before, or even Tuesday of last week. Honestly, I can't remember doing anything out of the ordinary since Ulie was born. It's a season, I tell myself, a repeat of what I've heard from my pastor's wife, my husband, and pretty much anyone else who observes my classic symptoms of sleep-deprivation and mental vacancy.

It's gotten to the point that Bill comes home to bring me the news of the day or else, short of anything exploding within a one-yard radius of our home, I'd miss it altogether.

That doesn't make me near as sad as realizing that I can go about my day without offering a hug to our kids or even a kiss to Bill when he comes home from work. I'm just not thinking about it. I have given Ulie so many kisses, hugs, caresses, snuggles, and cuddles throughout the day that I am just not aware of my lack of attention to anyone else.

I am out of touch. Terribly so. In every possible way.

But I am so happy that God isn't.