Hold on for one more daaaaaay…
How many times did I cry this weekend? Ummmmm. Let me count the ways…
There was Friday afternoon when it was almost time to leave for soccer practice and I needed to make a meal for my friend and her family and the way too cold refrigerator (It’s broken. Who has time to get it fixed?) froze the LETTUCE. The salad was the meal. So I cried. And we were 30 minutes late to soccer.
There was the moment Friday morning of running through all the deadlines and losing my breath on the sidewalk and reminding my own mind that this will pass. Take deep breaths. I freak out sometimes and all is still well. All will be well.
There were the texts from friends and strangers about the book and the good tears that come when people connect to the story you needed to tell.
There was a Saturday of silence with my church and the long hours of me and God working it out. Labyrinth walking and flower picking and breathing out the anxiety and breathing in the Spirit.
And then, yesterday, I cried when I took communion. I cried when I watched this video. I cried when I did the dishes, telling my husband that maybe this book was a huge mistake. Maybe I can take it back? I can’t take it back.
It’s the day before my book releases. It was mine and soon it will belong to everyone else. And that’s the best thing to do with stories, right? Get them out of your head and into the world?
Until then I’m praying. Breathe in the Spirit. Breathe out the fear.