There have been times when I was on a prescription that involved time release. The doses had to be spaced evenly. Even if I wanted to chug the whole bottle and forget about it, antibiotics don't work that way. 

It is a good thing that the first hour of every day for me is engaged with responding to comments online about spirituality. I cheerfully cut and paste biblical quotes from biblegateway- which I always want to call biblegetaway- and offer words of encouragement to people who have lost a beloved family member. I unabashedly lean into trust in God, and the strength of His protection. 

Then I close the laptop by 7:30 and face my life. 

This involves a medley of caring for elderly friends, filling the dishwasher, writing anniversary cards, and piecing quilts. Peppered in there is information about world events, which lately feels heavy. 

Yesterday, the altruism of the early morning began to fade, and by dusk I needed my own version of support. I watched an episode of Chosen. Yes, I have already watched the available seasons, twice, but it felt like the balm I needed. 

The stories included asking for forgiveness. This topic was not fully covered either in my educational curriculum, nor eight years of Sunday School. Admittedly, the latter mentioned it as a great idea, but left the particulars up for grabs. 

After Jesus spoke to the multitude about making amends, two of his followers realized that they needed to respond. Both of them showed up at the door of someone they had wronged, and stepped into the awkward space of admitting it. 

The forgivers, and forgiven, cried. Then they smiled. A stone they had been carrying without realizing it, thunked to the floor and rolled away. 

My internal reserves felt replenished, from the sweet chance to see what love looks like.