Power

Power is a scary thing, both having it and not having it.

Yesterday I spoke to a group of women about God's grace in the hard times. Some of them were crying. That doesn't happen too often--I think I wandered into heavier waters subject-wise than I normally do. But it gave me this sense that I--and the words I say or write--have more power than I'm comfortable with.

That was up in Newberg, and on the way home I stopped in Corvallis and met Matt at Wendy's and treated him to a #4 combo, medium, and a refill on the Coke.

It was the first time we've done this sort of thing, since I seldom go to Corvallis, and we had no trouble finding things to talk about, from powerful people and the risks they take to his GPA to analysing the motivations of people we know to what his little sibs are up to.

There's a feeling of powerlessness with an adult child. I can't make Matt do anything anymore, my commands backed up by threats of extra chores or no snack tonight. I can fuss and whine about him drinking over a quart of Coke in one sitting, and he may drink water just to humor me, but when he's back in his house he'll toss down an energy drink.

So I had the sensation of shooting down a waterfall on an inner tube, where you have no power or control but you may as well enjoy the ride. Which I did. Matt is very interesting to talk to and he lets me hug him going and coming, and I drove home smiling, floating on the pool at the bottom of the falls.

Quote of the Day:
"Cats are nice and moody. I like cats."
--Emily