After a great conference followed by a week of vacation, I was a little bummed about getting back into the regular grind. Couple that with several downer conversations, the return of the sweltering heat and a not-so-packed 'house' (garden) for our gathering and I was below my emotional norm. C'mon God, this isn't what I need right now.
In the midst of our discussion time, I noticed that one of our normal talkers just wasn't. She didn't say a word. She didn't take communion with us. If I was a notch below normal, she was 9 or 10.
When we were finished up, I made my way over to her picnic table to find out what was going on. She told me flat out, "I'm trying not to go to jail." She told me about a bunch of stuff that is going on with her family and how she's been a 'dancing chicken' to keep everyone happy recently. She knew that the chicken couldn't dance forever and she would soon have to make a choice that someone wouldn't like. It was rough. She didn't want to make a choice. She didn't want to go home.
She said, "I came here tonight to be alone, to get away."
Okay God, I get it.
It isn't about what I need at all.
It's about what she needs.
Someday maybe I'll figure it out before God has to hot me upside the head with it.
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