Comfort

Before Christmas vacation and on the last day of school, the office empties out the lost and found bin. That's how I got this navy blue hoodie and a few other items that have now found new homes by way of Christmas gifts. I will not describe the hoodie, for fear that it's yours and you want it back, but I will tell you that it is very soft, and has the exact right thickness for everything.

It made my last load of laundry, and I packed it into my giant suitcase as an afterthought before I left the house at 8 AM on Saturday. A few stats for Christmas vacation.

Days of vacation = 10
Days spent at my house = 0
Days I wore the sweatshirt for some period of time = 8 (a washing occurred) 

Over the last ten days, I have needed much comfort. My thoughts are unsettled by family matters, by imminent changes in housing, by my own fears. I think I'm easily out of sorts. Irregular sleep, different beds, irregular food, tons of cookies, and little exercise contributed to feeling unsettled. This should be a much longer paragraph in which I delineate all that worries me, but alas, I will pay a therapist significant money to be allowed to create that list in a confidential office. At the end of this holiday, I'm asking myself, where do I get comfort?

Nobody was around when I came home tonight, and the first thing I noticed was that recently-wed Bethany had completed her move-out, leaving almost no wall hangings. A few essential items she left, like the shower curtain and the utensil holder. I suppose it would have been rather Grinchy to take those before we had substitutes lined up, and she is certainly not Grinchy. Still, I felt comfortless without the trappings I was familiar with. Before I knew what I was doing, I reached for my suitcase, and put on the sweatshirt over my other layers. I made tea, ate some cookies, and prayed that God would be my comfort. I tried to give myself space to cry for all that is wrong without giving in too completely to melancholy. I have so much to be grateful for, and I am.

I'm cozy in bed now, ready to close my eyes and start over tomorrow, when mercies will be fresh and the sun can decorate the walls.

An Unusual Easter Morning

This morning, thoughts of work came like a flood. We arrived back in Casa at 10 PM, and it took me some time to fall asleep. The exact length of two episodes of The Great British Baking Show, as a matter of fact.

I have so much to think about from the desert, so much joy from the dunes of the Sahara to the lakes of the Atlas. But this morning, we couldn't go to church for stomach troubles. I made a bad decision, and traded my sense of well-being for the anxiety a second cup of coffee offered me. The day isn't over yet, but I am mired in preparations for this week. Ah, to be back in the desert.

Praying on Vacation

Me 1: There's a lot of work to do. Time to get started!

Me 2: But right now, I said I would pray.

Me 1: You're terrible at praying. Leave that to the spiritual people. You're good at working. Come on.

Me 2: Thanks, you really think I'm good at something?

Me 1: If it means I can start doing something productive already! It's almost 9:30 AM, and I've done nothing!

Me 2: No. I'm staying. It's a vacation day; no one is expecting me; all I need to do right now is keep trying to listen to God. [Concentrates again on scripture.]

Me 1: You are so lazy.

Me 2: (to Me 1) Stop it. (to Jesus) Hi, Jesus. I had some trouble getting here today. Me 1 won't leave me alone. I have a lot to do, I guess. And if I don't do it right now, I don't know... maybe Me 1 will hate me. Or  maybe other people will hate me. You know how I don't want to be hated.

[Jesus looks at Me 1. Me 1 shrinks under the weight of the silence.]

Me 1: (nervously) Well, Jesus, tell her she has to get something done! Vacation isn't all about her, and being quiet, and sleeping... [She trails off, hearing herself, and seeing that vacation is actually about all those things.]

Me 1: I mean... sure, do all those things, and do all the other things.

Me 2: I just can't. I just can't. I don't feel safe if I'm always thinking of what I should be doing. And what will I lose if I am lazy? What will happen if all I do is sit here with my Bible open, trying to pray? What will happen, Jesus?

Jesus: (with feeling, to Me 1 and Me 2) Stay. Stay and try to talk with me. I look forward to your vacation, too. I have so much I want you to see and know, and the first is that you are welcome here. And you, you must be weary, too. Won't you rest?

[Me 1 melts into Me 2, disappearing, becoming whole.]