And I just started a new job at a great church. And it's really exciting.
And I just got ordained. And it was really exciting.
And I'm getting to do new and wonderful things with God and God's people. And it's really exciting.
So why am I sitting here at the local Starbucks feeling so drained? Why do I feel so much heartache and loss even when things in my life are looking up and looking new and are, ostensibly, exciting?
This grief that comes as the flip side of all the new and exciting was something that I was completely unprepared for. The expenditure of all that energy psyching myself up for something different that I wasn't really ready for the reality of the crash.
And it's taken me a while to figure out that the crash is ok. That it's normal. That if I wasn't experiencing something I probably should be a little concerned. Excitement can only take you so far, because reality comes and it's intense.
Mostly because this crash, this temporary exhaustion is just that. Temporary.
Because I'm not in this alone. I'm surrounded by God and a great cloud of witnesses. So, even though it's been two and half weeks and everything has suddenly hit me, I have not been abandoned. I am not forgotten.
I have been led by the Spirit to this point, and I trust that she will keep leading me forward.
But now, I think it's time for me to be strong enough to admit that I need a rest stop. I need a moment to catch my breath. To take in my surroundings and to really prepare myself for the next little leg of the journey.
And so it might happen at Starbucks this morning. Or maybe it'll happen tomorrow after I get that sermon for Sunday written. But sometime soon, I'm going to take that breath. I'm going to breathe deeply and richly and take a day to truly rest, to let God restore and renew me in the way that only God can.
And then I can be excited again. At least until the next time I take a breather. Amen.