The End and the Beginning - part 1

The women's retreat was one and a half months ago and I'm finally going to wrap up the story. I've written it in my head a million times but kept procrastinating. I think part of the reason I put it off for so long is I wanted to continue to mull it over, to analyze it, to treasure it and make sure it was for real and not just a "mountain top" retreat kind of experience. Another reason I put it off is that it's a long story. I tried to edit down to a reasonable size but I couldn't bear to leave anything out. I agree with what Scott D. and Steve said about their blogs. I mainly write it for me. It's my way of journaling. It's therapeutic. When other people read it and enjoy it or comment or relate to it or whatever that's a sweet bonus.

I've decided to divide the story into three parts. Yeah, it's that long. I've already typed it all out so you won't have to wait weeks in between the posts. I will post one a day until it's done. So it all started like this......

See, I have this disability. It's almost impossible for me to cry in front of people. Sometimes I really want to cry. I want to let people know I'm broken down and desperate so they can pray for me. When someone else is crying, I want to cry with them and share the burden with them. For whatever reason, the tears will not come. I think it's a deep rooted pride problem. It's embarrassing to choke on your words and your face get's all red and puffy and the runny nose is the absolute worst part of all. If there are no tissues readily available, well it's just gross and uncomfortable for me. If you ever have the unfortunate experience of seeing me cry, you can trust that it’s a pretty rare event.

Sometimes the tears hit me when I least expect it. A week before the retreat I saw Nichole Nordeman and Casting Crowns in concert with a group from church. The lyrics and music and presence of God was so powerful in that place that my broken heart couldn't take it and I cried almost the entire time. I put my hair down so that it covered my face somewhat. When everyone else stood and sang I stood too, but I cried. I didn't even want to stand but I wanted to blend in with the crowd so my friends wouldn't notice something was wrong, but at the same time I wanted them to notice. I'm so weird.

This was especially frustrating because singing is my thing. Everyone around me was singing and worshipping. Singing for God is my passion, my gift, my love, my joy! It’s something I know I was created to do and I couldn’t. I tried to focus on something else to distract myself but I couldn't escape. By the end of the concert I was ready to confess to the group I rode with that I was not o.k. and I desperately needed help, support and prayers but as soon as the lights came up I was miraculously healed of my inability to stop crying. I went to Perkins with everyone and chatted and laughed and cracked jokes but all the while I was still thinking “HELP! I’m not o.k.!!”

to be continued.....