So, I’ve been pretty out of touch for about a month now. The first part of that I still don’t have words for, and then some of you know the second part and some of you don’t. Here’s the quick version: a little over a week before a large event, I discovered that someone had made an error and the 500+ person banquet and ceremony I was in charge of had no venue. We went into overdrive, switched venues, totally changed how we did everything, and had a fairly successful event. The two weeks before were hell, though.
Right now, I feel like I’m warming up after having been out in the cold for several days. I’m starting to feel again. I’m walking around at work remembering what it feels like to have a normal day, to walk across campus and notice the sky and the trees and not just the ground in front of my feet, to respond to people and questions without furiously calculating how long it’s going to take me to help them and whether I need that time for something else.
I’ve survived, but I haven’t yet fully recovered. I slept a lot over the weekend. I started looking at the things I’d been doing before I set them all aside to take care of the crisis. I cried, and felt some of the frustration and anger of the last couple of weeks. I looked up in the middle of my walk yesterday and suddenly felt like writing again. But I’m so tired. I’m tired inside. I need some books and people and slow mornings and time in prayer and completed journal pages and more tears before I’ll be completely myself again.
It’s a bit weird to feel like I’m warming back up to my own life, like I’ve been living as someone else for a couple of weeks and I have to remember what it feels like to be me. And then there are the places that I’m finding slightly different after these two weeks. I’ve found evidence for some things I’ve always doubted, things like, “Sarah is trustworthy.” Is she? Really? Will she be able to do what needs to be done? Will she be able to respond to people and situations in a reasonable and adult manner? Apparently, she will. Apparently, she doesn’t fall apart at the slightest sign of pressure or stress or resistance, but does what she has to do to make it through. Apparently, she can let go of what she needs to let go of and get on with the rest.
Another confirmation? “God is there.” I can’t quite explain the excruciating waters of doubt I’ve been sloshing about in during these last weeks. I don’t know where they came from and I can’t begin to tell you how one part of me can fervently believe in God and His love while another fervently denies, but it happens. And then, in the midst of all that was going on last week, God said, “Dance with me.” He said, “Do your part here, and I’ll be with you and do my own.” And that’s how we did it. I couldn’t take care of the rain, so I didn’t worry about. I couldn’t do anything about the speakers that didn’t work when people said they would, so I let it go. I’ve never really felt like I was working on something with God before, but I did last Thursday night. That doesn’t solve the doubt issues, but it adds another piece to the puzzle.
I’m sure there’s more here…things like, “double check other people’s work, and let them double check your own,” and, “it doesn’t have to be perfect, even if a few people are upset in the end,” but I’m not there yet. I’m still tired. I still want to cry when I think about how I was feeling, all the stress I was under and what I had to carry and how that doesn’t seem entirely right or fair, and how all of this kept me from enjoying some other things that happened during the last two weeks that I would have loved to be more present for. I guess I’m grieving the fact that this happened and that it happened to me, while trying to move forward on other things. I don’t feel ready, yet, to leave this place. Whatever it was, it’s not finished in me yet, or I’m not finished with it. When I’m finished, well, I guess I’ll be recovered then.