Losing Heart
I hate it when I say something that causes pain. When my words hurt someone, I lose heart . I kick myself into a deep depression. I feel like Eeyore, the old grey Donkey, who looked at himself in the water, said: "Pathetic. That's what it is. Pathetic." Clouds darken; colors fade; hope recedes. I spiral into a dark place. One would think at the ripe old age of 68 that I would have command over my words. Sadly, this isn't the case. After innocently saying something hurtful to someone I love dearly recently, Carla, my niece, who I hadn't seen for some time, unexpectedly came to visit Jane and me in the hospital where my granddaughter, Ellie was recovering from a horrific accident. I was in that dark place. Carla encouraged me, loved me, and brought me a burrito and chips. As we gathered around Ellie's bed, Carla asked if she could pray. As she prayed, Jesus clearly said to me: "Don't lose heart." In these difficult days of mass