rainy skies and the girl who cries

This morning, I stepped out of my door at 9:45 A.M. My English Novel class started at 10 A.M., and I really did not want to be late. The second I stepped off of my porch, it started to rain. I ran to the car, cranked it up, and proceeded to back into the trashcan, which the garbage truck workers so kindly left in the middle of my driveway. I did not get out to pick up the disgusting garbage can. The only reason I was even rushing for time was because I spent too long getting ready. I was not going to destroy my hair to pick up something gross in the rain. So, I left it in the middle of the street. I drove through a small monsoon to get to The Stone Center, which has, sadly, turned into my second home. Then, I ran in three inch satin heels and a new red dress while carrying my extremely large purse, two notebooks, and an umbrella. When I finally got to the door, I awkwardly closed the umbrella. I'm really terrible with umbrellas in general. I remembered my mom giving me that particular umbrella at Brother Larry's funeral.

We talked about religious issues today in class. We're reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. Stephen, the main character, was raised in a strict Catholic school. He listened to countless sermons about the horrors of Hell, and he thought had to follow a strict set of rules if he did not want to end up in Hell. Our class discussed this for a long time, and I was shocked to see that some of my classmates had also heard many sermons like the ones in the novel. They were taught to fear God. They talked about how this turned them away from religion in general, and I could understand why it would. I almost felt guilty, because I never had to hear sermons like that. Brother Larry always focused on what we SHOULD do, rather than what we should NOT do. He taught us to love others, to be accepting of all types of people, and to reach out and help those who need us. I heard so many sermons about Heaven, all of which I remember very well. However, I do not recall any sermon that was focused on Hell. I learned to believe in a forgiving and gracious God. God is love. God is good. I wish that some of these people could have heard Brother Larry preach. I wish that I'd realized earlier how lucky I really was. I looked out the window, and to my surprise, the sun had come through the clouds. The rain was almost gone.

I walked out of class with a friend that I've had several courses with at JSU. He is a very considerate, thoughtful, and kind person. He is also a pastor, a husband, and a father. We talked about a classmate of ours that passed away this week from a heart attack. We talked about how Easter was going to be difficult this year. His wife is about to have a baby after a long period of time on bed rest. He has been exhausted, but still, he had time to show kindness to someone else. He said he'd keep me in his prayers, and I don't know if he'll ever realize how much I needed that. I hope that God blesses his wife with a safe and easy delivery, as well as a healthy baby!

Russell and I drove to Talladega, where we managed to go through 13 monsoons and one large hailstorm. We went to the Good Friday service at my church. There were not many people there, but I understand how hard it is. It's just too emotional. We've never done this without Brother Larry. Everything is different. Everyone just looks tired. The rain continued. The choir opened with "Were You There?" I cried. I just miss hearing him laugh. I miss everything. Russell got a peppermint out of his pocket, and I just lost it again. Usually, I'd just throw my hand back, and Uncle Randall would put a peppermint in it. He did not sit behind me today. For 21 years, he's been sitting behind me in church. His seat is empty now. I don't want him to be sick anymore. Leave him alone, cancer... leave all of us alone. It's not the peppermints that I need. I need everything to go back to the way it was. It was perfect. None of these people deserve to hurt the way that they do. None of them ever deserve to feel one ounce of pain.

I've cried every single day since January 06, 2009. If this keeps up, I'll drown in the tears.