“I’m not supposed to be here,” I whispered to myself at least 9 times today….once upon waking in my own bed, once as I soothed an anxiety induced spiral in my 13 year old son on our way to school, at least twice sitting in my office at church, once waiting in line to pick up the dog’s insulin, once stuck in traffic trying to find the new office of my son’s psychologist, once while texting with my pastor/boss about a potentially contentious meeting this weekend, and once while cooking dinner for my family.
In an alternate version of this weekend, I really was not supposed to be here. And by “here” I mean home. In the early days of 2019 I had planned with delight several days away in one of my no-fail happy places with a handful of my favorite women. Then a little over a month ago, I cancelled those plans with equal parts remorse and resignation when it became clear that God/life/the universe had other plans for me. So while in my heart of hearts I’m really not supposed to be here right now, there are absolutely four super important reasons I do need to be here – kids in a concert, daughter in a riding show, kids being Confirmed on Sunday, and the aforementioned potentially contentious meeting – but that also means there are four super important things threatening to burst my happy little peace bubble.
What, you may ask, is a happy little peace bubble? It’s my attempt to maintain peace and harmony both within myself and in the world around me. (If you know the Enneagram, I identify as a 9 and peace seeking is about the nine-iest nine sort of thing). I spend gobs of time trying to keep my peace bubble super bubbly and shiny, and round with no holes. When everything is going my way, in my mind I picture this…
This morning when I woke up and thought, “I’m not supposed to be here,” in my mind I pictured something more like this…
Clearly, there is a ton of space between my bubble being super bubbly and shiny and my bubble being burst – and that is the space where I make my bubble a little less bubbly and a little more bouncy so there is space for other people and circumstances that will inevitably push against my happy little peace bubble. That is the space where “I’m not supposed to be here” becomes, “This wasn’t the plan, but I can roll with it.” (Or maybe bounce with it…)
So, I’m not supposed to be here, but I am. And since I am, I get to listen to my kids sing tomorrow night, watch my daughter jump a horse she’s been training to overcome it’s fear of jumps, stand beside both of my kids as they are confirmed in the same congregation where they were baptized, and be in the room where months of contention will hopefully end in a decision that will see our local United Methodist Church taking a stand that declares we are a church where inclusion for all is the only way forward. That’s a whole lot of goodness and get to in one weekend, and I will try my hardest to keep my bubble a bouncy one.
We're All A Little Broken 