But I started to think about Matushka Olga again: She lived in a tiny village in Alaska all her life, yet lived a holy life and undoubtedly will be glorified as a saint one day--America's first Orthodox woman saint. Why do I always get these illusions of grandeur and think I need bigger and better in order to serve God ... or rather myself? I rarely leave my house here (thanks, anxiety)--why would I think that would get better in New York City? And when I was in Carrollton, I utterly despised suburban living--why would that change in Worcester (other than there's a Jerusalem Patriarchate Church there and that's REALLY REALLY COOL)? Is my lot in life to stay here in Denton and knit and bake and deal with my illness?
Then this popped up on Facebook:
Yeah, I think I'm stuck in Texas. Tschüß bis später, illusions of grandeur.
Anyway, Chris has an interview with the county jail infirmary tomorrow. We're both eager about the possibility, and I think Chris has a leg up after teaching in prison out west, even if that ended poorly. (It wasn't the prison part, it was the teaching part. Why do think he's in nursing school anyway?) We'd covet prayers.