Yesterday was the first day I felt comfortable saying "Good" whenever anyone would ask the obligatory-in-Texas-greeting "How are you?" The first few days people didn't ask, because they saw my eyes. About a week later they asked hesitantly, and I would reply either "Ok" or "I'm hanging in there." But yesterday I said "Good" and meant it.
There is fear that comes with saying I am doing well. Because I am not, of course, doing totally well. I am injured. I am empty. But I do have Jason here with me. Christy will be here later today. Today is Sunday, so n a couple of hours I'll see all the people that make me smile and laugh and know that we will get through this.
The other night at our retreat we went through one of those cool ancient-postmodern-whatever labrynths. I was reminded of Jesus feeling forsaken. Of being hurt and left alone. I was reminded that my faith is in a God that allows us to feel hurt and left alone but who never hurts us or leaves us alone.
So, yeah, "good" is an appropriate word.