Have you ever felt like you were losing your mind? Not just that I-can’t-remember-where-I-put-my-keys kind of mental lapse. I mean, seriously, like your mind suddenly has a mind of its own? When your thoughts and emotions don’t make any sense at all, and don’t even feel like your own, but you’re powerless to control them? When the knot in the pit of your stomach just won’t go away, but you can’t even figure out why it’s there? When despite all the things you have to do today…things that you were really looking forward to…you can’t drag yourself out of bed until noon? And even then you wish you could take your blanket around with you and hide your head under it periodically throughout the day?
Yeah, that was my week. Just so you get the full picture, in technicolor, of how screwed up I am, let me tell you what happened Tuesday afternoon. Jon’s phone rang while he was sitting at his desk. He answered it and stepped outside to talk for a few minutes.
That was it. That’s what happened. What? You missed it?? Yeah, most normal people, in their right mind, would. Let me replay what happened in my world though. He stepped out the front door, and when it closed behind him, my mind took over. As illogical and ridiculous as it sounds now, in that moment I panicked. “What if…”, is all I could think. What if he was talking to someone that he didn’t want me to know about… (nevermind I could hear him through the front door) What if that someone was another woman… What if he was cheating on me… What if this wonderful marriage I thought we had wasn’t real… What if he left me… What if…I don’t even remember all the what-if’s I created from thin air.
It was crazy, irrational fear, and nothing more. The same kind of fear that had me in its grip all week. And the worst part, I didn’t tell anyone. Well, I didn’t tell anyone except Jon. And he was great…wonderful and supportive as always. He talked me down off the ledge, so to speak, several times last week. That great marriage I was talking about earlier isn’t a figment of my imagination, like the rest of that craziness. Jon proved that over and over this past week.
So I told him, but I didn’t tell anyone else what was going on. I was so wrapped up in my crazy that I couldn’t figure out who to tell. And yes, I know, there’s a long list of you running through my head right now who are probably a little hurt and offended that I just said that. I could have, and should have, told any one of you. Aside from that, I could have written this post last Tuesday night, but I didn’t. And I don’t know why.
I don’t really know why I’m writing it right now, except that it’s my blog, and my crazy is allowed here. Here’s where I figure it all out sometimes. Here’s where, on a really good day, God shows up and uses my own words to put things in perspective for me. I guess I’m just hoping He’ll do it again.
I know that keeping it to myself isn’t working…even prayer isn’t working right now. And I’ve got a pretty good idea which one of us is responsible for the communication break-down. Let’s see…me or Him? Hmmm, probably not Him.
I know He must be flashing neon signs all around me right now, but I just don’t see them. And just as I typed that I heard Him say, “what DO you see all around you?”
:::This post temporarily interrupted while…well, you’ll see why in a minute:::
I looked up from my fear and self-pity for a minute, and noticed all the people rushing past me. I was sitting in the Chicago airport, waiting on my connecting flight to Cleveland. I looked at the people wondering who exactly God wanted me to notice…who around me I should be helping rather than worrying about myself. Just when I think I know where He’s headed, He’s always got a different message for me.
And then I saw what He was trying to show me. I was missing my flight! I had gotten absorbed in my writing and didn’t notice the plane boarding behind me, without me!
I did make my flight, barely. And on my way down the jetway God said to me, “See? You DO still hear me. And I didn’t let you miss your flight. I’m right here. And I’m getting you where I want you to go. Trust me.”