I don't know what happened. I felt fine when I went to bed last night, as fine as I've felt in the past couple of months. I was looking forward to today because today was Sunday and that meant it was church day.
And then I woke up today, and as soon as my alarm went off, I felt like I was choking back tears. I could feel the lump in my throat. A huge part of me just wanted to stay in bed because the whole world just felt frightening and intimidating, but I knew I needed to go be with my City Grace family. That is my one mini break in the week, when I get to go be with them. Most of the time, I can forget everything else for a couple of hours and just get caught up in worship and praise and being with people I know love me so dearly.
Not today. Today, I couldn't even muster putting a smile on my face. I couldn't say that I was good when people asked me, because I wasn't, and I just didn't have it in me to pretend for once.
I talked to my friend Jeri before the service, and she prayed over me, and I could tell the dam was about to break because my words kept getting caught in my throat as I tried to tell her what was in my head.
In the beginning of each service, we have a time of greeting each other, and my friend Steven saw me sitting in the back by myself not getting up or talking to anyone, so he came back to give me a big hug and ask me what was up. I told him I couldn't really explain it in the few seconds we had, so I'd talk to him after the service.
And then the music started. And I could barely even sing. Usually the music is my favorite part. Today's songs were even some of my favorites that we do, and I couldn't even get the words out. I just felt so...numb, I guess. And that's terrifying.
The sermon was fine. It didn't really strike any nerve in me, because it was about why singleness is a good thing, mostly if that's what you're called to, and I'm not called to it, so I just couldn't focus on it.
What I didn't know is that today we were doing communion. When I sat down from that, I just had my head down and started tearing up. I so didn't want to start crying there, so I tried to swallow it.
During the last song, though, that was when I lost it. I looked behind me and saw one of our deacons, Keith, standing in the back, so I just got up and went and asked him to pray for me. And that was when the dam broke. I couldn't even finish what I needed to ask him to pray for when the tears started pouring. I cried straight through his prayer and the end of the song, "How He Loves"....one of my favorite songs. The most beautiful part, though, was that Keith didn't let go. He held his arm around me and I cried on his shoulder as he sang the words of the song over me. Reminding me that God loves me more than I can understand, even in the midst of this chapter that makes no sense whatsoever.
Moments like that, they are when I know that I have a church family that gets it right as much as any people can. They are so, so good to me.
I dried my tears when the service ended, and sat down with Steven to tell him what was going on. We talked for several minutes, and then he prayed for me, too. When he got up, I went outside the theater to just sit for a few minutes and try to gather my emotions, even though I still didn't know what to say.
And then I had a seizure. And I felt like I got punched in the gut all over again. Nothing makes sense. And I still don't know what to say.
Keith asked me how my prayer life was, and when I told him it was like I just didn't know what to say anymore because I'd been praying for the same things for so long with nothing changing, and you know what he said? "Sometimes crying out is enough."
Right now, that's all I've got.