"Beware the Ides of March"

Back in high school, I took four years of Latin.  The first year, I didn't understand at all what I was doing, but gracious Magistra Kell didn't give up on me or kick me out of the class.  I think I managed to snag a "B" with a lot of extra credit work.  During my second and third years, as I became more familiar with the syntax and vocabulary, reading and translating became more and more accessible.  Finally, in my fourth year, I was extremely comfortable with it and loved going to that class every day.  It didn't hurt that by the time we reached senior year, there were precious few of us left who had stuck with it, and we were like a little family.   Part of the class was to study not only the Latin language, but the Roman culture and mythology.  We watched Julius Caesar my senior year, in preparation for all the national and international exams that were upcoming (the Medusa and the NLE are just a couple that we took), along with several other movies, in addition to all our reading and studying mythology. 

Anyway, the point of that intro, is to give a little context, as well as to tell you that I still think about that class, and what I learned.  And this year, on March 15th, the Ides of March, despite the fact that I don't believe in the Roman gods, I wondered if there was something to the idea that the Ides of March somehow has some kind of inherent not-so-great quality.  (Do you know what I'm talking about when I talk about the Ides of March?)  "Beware the Ides of March" continued to echo in my mind all day Tuesday.  It was not a great day.  Maybe it was the cold, rainy, gray-ness of it.  Maybe it was that, despite loving having Daniel home for a day off, I felt all discombobulated and off-kilter and off schedule.  Maybe it was that I'm really, really hoping that our social worker is going to call...and she still hasn't.  Maybe it was that the pressure of a three-and-a-half-year-long process for my husband just to try (again) for his dream job is catching up with me.  Maybe it was that my two and a half year old son has been in rare form for the better part of this week, thanks to lack of sleep and a nasty cold, and he was acting about as contrary as anyone can be.  Who knows?  Maybe it was a combination of all of those things.  You think?  *grin*

Thankfully, this post is not over, nor is my life.  Thankfully, each day is only given one day's worth of time.  And, thankfully, "Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed for his compassions never fail.  They are new every morning."  Am I using that Lamentations 3 verse a lot lately?  Can you tell I'm clinging to the truth of it with everything I've got?  Good gracious, I don't know what I'd do without the truth it speaks of...nor the reality it affords.  Yesterday was better, and today has started off quite well, too.   We'll keep pushing through, day by day, running our marathons as steadfastly as we can.  I'm so ready for the finish line!