Worn

It all started with a bottle of Tabasco.

Six weeks ago, I started back to work after a three-month sabbatical. It's been hard to re-adjust to the pace of life and work. I'm busier than I remembered. There's always someone else to visit or more work to be done on sermons, Bible studies or Confirmation lessons. People are worried about church finances; this creates conflict on many levels and leaves us uncertain about our future. The busy-ness and anxiety goes right into my body, wearing me down more than the 800 repeats I ripped out on the track last night.

I feel like the magical effects of sabbatical have already worn off. I feel worn. Worn out. Worn tired. Worn down. Some reflections on being worn, in three acts.

Act 1: Breakfast time

This morning, my husband and I had a “heated conversation” about Tabasco. But not really.

Me: Why is TABASCO written in big letters on the grocery list?

Him: Because you haven't picked it up the last several times you've been to the store. (Let the reader note he later acknowledge he forgot the Tabasco on his last grocery trip).

Me: That's because I'm so busy and stressed out that when I go to the store I'm in triage mode: milk, bananas, meat and bread, then I rush out.

Him: It seems like you're in triage mode a lot.

Me: (Promptly bursts into tears).

Act 2: At the airport

I came back Sunday night from a wonderful reunion with my college friends. We met in Minneapolis. I took a connecting flight to Seattle and then arrived at the gate for the Anchorage flight only to see the door closing.

Me: Did the door to the flight to Anchorage just close?

Airline Rep: Yes.

Me: But I need to get home! Can't you open it? I just saw it close! Come on!

Airline Rep: No.

Me: But I have to go home. I have to work tomorrow. It's already too late.

Airline Rep: Let me see your ticket. If there's a later flight tonight, we'll put you on it.

Me: But I have to get home. You don't understand!

Airline Rep: You're not on this flight. Your flight leaves in 45 minutes.

Me: (Promptly bursts into tears).

Act 3: In the pool this morning

Just after the Tabasco Fiasco, I went for a swim at the Y. The water was warm and comforting. I thought about everything that's stressing me out. I thought about how a priest I knew in Berkeley said he swam a lot because it was a way to feel comfort and touch when one is celibate. I thought about how Luther said every time we wash our face we can remember our baptism.

Me: God, I'm worn.

God: I know. I love you. I will never leave you.

Me: (Promptly bursts into tears).