I used to tell the girls when they were little that there was no use lying to me, because either I would figure it out by the look in their eyes, or if it was really critical, the Spirit would tell me directly. I told them that the Holy Spirit was a tattletale, which might not be the most reverent way of expressing it but is certainly within His job description.
[Yes, I am quite aware that there is plenty of stuff that I do not know about what they got into, but either it was relatively minor and I would have blown it up all out of proportion, or it was essential to their exercise of agency and therefore between God and them, or maybe it was necessary for my mental health not to know.]
One of the least-fun aspects of mortality is when the Spirit tells me that I have hurt or offended a friend, and I need to go apologize. I took one such friend aside yesterday and did just that. She asked me how I knew, if somebody had said something to me, and I told her no, that the Spirit told me and that I was sorry and that I wished it were easier for me to hear the Spirit say, “Oh, no no no! Don’t say that!” than it is for me to hear Him say, “You hurt her feelings. Go apologize.”
I am still very much a work in progress. I get frustrated with myself when the progress is so slow. Knitting progress is considerably easier to measure. Behold!
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!