Re-entry

Our time in Texas was wonderfully relaxing. We didn’t keep a busy schedule. We basically chilled with my brother and sister-in-law, getting some time with my niece, her husband and their kids—the “gbs” as they are called (grandbabies).

Other than checking the church voice mail a few times a day to make sure there were no emergencies and getting my license replaced, I did little that was productive. I worked out at Curves, walked with Barbara and her neighbor, and ate too much. There were few demands on us and that was wonderful.  As we drove to the airport in San Antonio, besides being nervous about going through security with no driver’s license, I was aware that I was sad and reluctant to go. Not only would I miss being with our family, but I knew I was heading back into the storm in a way. Radiation loomed. The basement has to be waterproofed and everything in it moved. Things still have to be sorted. Coming back to my congregation was a joy; everything else felt like a chore.

In some ways, I would like to be an ostrich, sticking my head in the ground, ignoring what’s around me. I’m aware that there are times I do that—maybe not with everything, but with some things. If I ignore them maybe they will go away. I know, however, that’s not how it works. My Family Systems coach reminds me to make contact with what I find troubling. Facing it, rather than avoiding it, will be much better in the long run. So, I’m trying to face it, even when I have my ostrich moments. Thank you for your patience.

Psalm 131

LORD, my heart isn’t proud;

 
      my eyes aren’t conceited.

 
   I don’t get involved with things

 
   too great or wonderful for me.

No. But I have calmed 
and quieted myself

 
   like a weaned child on its mother;

 
   I’m like the weaned child on me.

Israel, wait for the LORD—

 
   from now until forever from now!