Letting Go
Letting go is always the hardest part.
Our lives are filled with so many people, activities and responsibilities. When it is time to take a break, it is hard to let go of it all. Realistically, we can’t; it is not possible. I can’t stop feeding my four year-old simply because I am on vacation. However, I can let go of some things. I thought letting go of work was going to be a problem. Thankfully, it wasn’t. Well…not too hard. It did take me a couple of days and I did forget to turn my work alarm off on Monday.
What I have struggled with has been letting go of months (maybe more) of physical, emotional and spiritual stress. I’m not there yet, but I am working on it. Maybe I’ll be perfectly relaxed and ready to enjoy my sabbatical about the time I return to FD. (insert picture of me smiling ironically here)
Serving
This past week I spent several hours volunteering at the Christian Service Center. I remember as a little kid taking our “give-away” clothes to a one-portable Christian Service Center. Now, this amazing organization is housed in the same building that once housed the congregation I grew up in. Woodlawn church of Christ donated its building to CSC a few years ago and just a few months ago, the CSC reopened its new facility. Having grown up at Woodlawn, I felt led to volunteer at the CSC during my sabbatical. It was a fascinating experience and I will definitely try to volunteer there again in the future. They are open one Saturday a month, so even with a “day job,” I will have the opportunity to work with them again. (I will tell more about my experiences in my next blog, but it is late, I still have other things to share and I have a plane to catch tomorrow morning…but I digress.)
Serving can take on so many faces and be perceived in so many ways. Not just this past week, but over the last month or so, I have been blessed to serve a friend in a way that working at FD has uniquely prepared me for. A dear friend lost her brother recently to suicide. He was terminally ill, and the family knew that their time with him was limited, but I don’t think anything can prepare you for the shock of suicide. My friend has not had an easy life. I cannot imagine going through the trials she has gracefully overcome through the years. We have known each other since college and, though we have drastically different personalities, we get on great. My husband and I have been ministering to her and serving her these past weeks by simply inviting her into our home, feeding her sometimes and listening. Sometimes we talk about her brother. Sometimes we talk about the future. Sometimes we talk about the past. And this week, I made her watch Moana. Because really, not having seen a Disney movie since The Lion King is just wrong. That and since we have a wrestling past (please don’t ask), I felt like she just had to hear Dwayne Johnson (aka: The Rock) sing. Anyway…the point is that though I am neither a grief counselor nor can I take her pain away, I can be there for her. Every time she needs me. And I am blessed by loving her.
Flying
So, my daughter (who should not even still be up) just asked me, “Mami, will I share your ice cream with you?” She said it with the sweetest look on her face. She is the same child that told my mother one morning at breakfast that her yogurt was “repulsive” because it had fruit pieces in it. Yep. She’s 4. She’s never met a stranger. And we’re flying across the ocean tomorrow. She’s either going to be a hit with our neighbors on the plane or she is going to drive them insane.
Many of you know that my husband is Italian. We moved here two years ago (yes, I know…everyone asks the same question: WHY?) and this is our first opportunity to go “home.” That we are excited is an understatement. I consider it no small miracle that we are even getting to go. All the necessary elements came together, however, and the day as finally arrived. We are packed up, checked in and – after checking about 14 times to make sure we really do have our passports – I can go to bed peacefully, safe in the knowledge that 5:30 am is going to come entirely too soon.
So, I salute you all for now. Next time I write, it will be from a tablet with no separate keyboard – in Italy.
Buonanotte, amici.