Resting Toward

I should be asleep.

It's practically before dawn on a Sunday morning and I'm exhausted. This is the final weekend of the play at church, Steel Magnolias, and today is the final show. Before that though comes Sunday School and big church and in my infinite wisdom I managed to get a guest teacher for my class the first weekend of the show, but not the second so I'll be "on" teaching this morning too. After the play comes Strike (tearing down the set, etc.) and the Cast Party. While many of these are fun things (teaching is always my first gift on spiritual or vocational assessment tests and you know i love acting and of course partying) the overall day is going to be tiring. Caffeine and sugar here I come.

So I should be sleeping.

But I'm not.

Maybe because today feels like the last day of summer.

After Chile, I was on an emotional roller coaster. Every time I had to speak publicly I cried (so it seemed) and any conversation with any depth to it seemed to elicit tears. Then rehearsals for the play started and "dying" once or twice a night will wear on one's stability and so I called my mom every night after rehearsal for a whole month just to hear her voice.

But now we're to our last performance. Chile is done and while I still write the girls in the home letters, who knows if I'll ever go back. The play is now almost done and what I've channelled my energy into for two and a half months is about to end. My co-workers will all finally be settling back into office life after vacationing or being gone to camps and conventions all summer. So I won't be the only minister in the office anymore.

Summer's ending.

Of course, the heat isn't. It's still 103 here in Austin. So, as Shelby would say, "Some things never change."

I guess that's a comfort.

But it's not change that's keeping me awake.

So what is?

I guess that's why I'm writing. I've been slacking. You know this better than anyone. And if my blog weren't testimony enough, my poor diary is... there's practically nothing in it since May, and it's so irritated with me it's about to lock itself up and throw away the key.

Writing helps me process my life, making it lighter with a dose of laughter. Help it go down better like a spoonful of sugar. If you can't laugh at yourself, what can you do? And I do spend a lot of time laughing. And storytelling is essential to our human character I believe, so if we're not telling stories, what are we doing?

I think I'm awake this morning and writing because I sense more is coming. Usually after a big event at work, we get one or two days of respite time. If you go to camp for a week and are with 3rd graders or teenagers 24/7 for six days in a row, you get two work days off to rest up. So I'm due my two days or so after the play is over, but while I believe I will be resting from my 24/7 show of weddings, births, deaths and pink everything, I think I will be resting towards something as much as from something.

Does that make sense? Maybe I'm awake because of anticipation. Something may be coming blogworld, and perhaps that's why I'm writing. I'm not sure. But I feel confident, capable and... well... awake. So if you're awake too, then, I guess you're welcome to join me on the journey.