Numb

We've been helping a friend of ours get his new house ready to move into. He has a lot of work yet to do and they are moving in just 3 days. So, we've been helping however we can. I've been doing some painting. On Monday, I painted. When I learned to paint, during my first job out of high school, I was taught how to hold the paint can so as to not slop paint all over the side and handle of the can while I was getting more paint on my brush. The way I do it, is to hold the can by the handle in the crook of my index finger and push the can away from my hand a little with my other fingers. Hard to describe, but it works. However, since I'm not used to this, my finger got numb as I was painting. Not so much that I dropped the paint, but enough to notice. And the next day it was still numb. And the next, still numb. Here we are on Thursday, and my finger still has that slight tingling sensation and sort of thick feeling like when your foot goes to sleep and after you get passed the complete numbness, and the excruciating pinpricks, then it has that dull tingly feeling. That's the perpetual stage I'm in with my finger. Enough to bug me, but not enough to stop me from doing the stuff I normally do.

I wonder if that's where I am in my spiritual life as well. Jesus taught so much on the topic of the poor. We are supposed to help the poor, the orphans and the widows. I'm sort of numb to the pain of the people around me in this world. Not numb enough not to notice it, not numb enough not to care, but just numb enough to feel not quite right, and to wish I could do a little more. Sure, we try to give to those in need when the opportunity presents itself, but we don't go searching it out, like it bothers us so much we must right the wrong. I am just sort of in a middle ground - doing the things I normally do, but feeling a little weird about it all, a little overwhelmed. Floating though life - a little numb.

On a lighter note, I think there is a bird in our chimney. Or a squirrel. Not good.