The Other Side of Things

I'm a positive poster. I like to share the highlights, the adventures, the hope and the love. I'm not into blogs that focus on complaining. I likes me some funny. Or shower me with inspiration! But maybe this is a problem. I edit stuff out. I try to be strong and together all of the time. I process things down and make them more palatable. I'm a writer...but in a story, would it be a good idea to leave out the conflict? No. That would make it a boring, crap story. Come to think of it, that's the note I receive most on my screenplays. "It needs more conflict." That's probably why I write more comedy than anything else. I don't want to be indulgent and languish in the painful for too long. It's not that I stuff things. I don't. I try to work through what I'm feeling. I just expect myself to do it faster than you can say "snickerdoodle"and jump back in the saddle.

All that is to say that, well, I'm sad. Really sad. And for once I'm not going to downplay it. I think the past few months have dealt some blows, the last 10 days in particular. Each time I'd get the latest dose of bad news I'd tell myself "It'll be fine." I felt good about reaching a level of trust, of acceptance, knowing that worry is of no value. Moving on, looking forward. But I still have feelings. Last night in my small group, they asked me if I had anything I wanted them to pray about. I opened my mouth.....and started crying. I was embarrassed losing it in front of a group of semi-strangers. Then I realized it was okay. It's okay to cry. It's okay to be sad. It's okay to be disappointed. It's okay to be vulnerable. To look weak. To need. I'm kind of relieved., actually. I was afraid I was numb and didn't care anymore. At age two I started declaring "I do it myself!" and I've never really stopped I guess. So, now I'm going to give myself time to be sad. And I'm going to ask you to pray for my family. And me.