Sunday evening — October 18

"Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire other than you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."* — Psalm 73:25-26

It is Sunday evening and Earl's birthday week is done.

I will tell you how it went. Monday I prayed the list and did not talk about it yet. Tuesday Dan called and we did not talk about it either, which is how Dan and I do the days before the days — we walk around them in the dark and trust our feet. Wednesday I talked about it. I told you about the fence. I told you about a man who checked a fence every Sunday for thirty years because it was the fence, and who had a temper and brought home ice cream when he was sorry, and who would have been eighty years old and would still have been checking the fence if he were here, and I believe that the way I believe anything I know to be true without evidence.

Thursday I made apple butter because you have to do something with your hands the day after, and the day after the day after is just a day, and the apples were ready and the house needed to smell like something other than the week.

Friday the verse came back. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you. The card is still on the windowsill above the sink. The handwriting is almost gone. The verse is not.

Saturday was short. The list and the minute and the coffee and the cool house and the apple butter in jars on the counter.

Today the children came and David slew Goliath and Thomas measured the giant against the ceiling and Sophie's eyes went wide and Caleb watched from his chair, and the story did what the story always does, and I did not cry, and I did not need to, and that is not because I am past the crying but because the children do not know what Wednesday was, and their not-knowing is a kind of grace.

Love is strong as death. That is the verse I carried all week. Not love wins. Not love conquers. Love is the same weight as death. You carry one the way you carry the other, and they are both heavy, and they are both yours.

Until next Sunday.