I went to bed last night after an evening that didn't go quite how I had planned. It was a great evening, aside from my not listening to myself at two crucial points. Ironically, all day I've been thinking about my post for today. About how much I've grown in the last few months, and about how much greenery and new birth are a part of advent and Christmas. But laying there in bed, suddenly remembering I'd forgotten to post, and reflecting on the two times tonight that old SCWInk ruled over new SCWInk, I kind of wondered.
I guess it's true that there are seasons. That growth sometimes happens in spurts, and sometimes it slows for a while. Sometimes we even forget how far we've already come, and lament how far there is to go. The 11 year old who can't wait to be a teenager forgets he was once a toddler.
I'm disappointed in myself tonight. I neglected someone who matters to me. But when I remember that I was once a toddler, I can allow myself a little grace. And that's a lovely G word as well.