Crazy Emotions

For the past 24 hours, I’ve been saying a lot of goodbyes. I’ve been surprisingly unemotional. Then at the dinner (lunch) table with my family, I completely broke down because I wouldn’t be able to throw my sister-to-be a bridal shower because I’ll be in Paraguay the months preceding her wedding. My breakdown came out of nowhere, lasted all of 30 seconds, and left as quickly as it had arrived. Several hours later, I lost it again when I tried to relay a conversation I had had with my nephew. I wasn’t feeling any emotion when I began, but started sobbing just seconds into the story, as if somebody flipped on my heart’s grief switch without my knowledge! A few days ago, Braden and I were playing softball, and I told him that when I come home from Paraguay, he’ll be on a real baseball team and I’ll sit in the bleachers to cheer him on. Sometimes, the thought of returning to find my 1,3,and 5 year old nephews 4,6, and 8 is more than I can bear.

These days my emotions are best illustrated by Indiana weather: entirely unpredictable. “How are you feeling?” everyone keeps asking. Well, this week my feelings have pretty much run the gamut. Gratitude. Self-pity. Joy. Peace. Depression. Anticipation. Anxiety. Gratitude. Confidence. Discouragement. Excitement. Peace. Fear. Awe. Nostalgia. Gratitude. Impatience. Anticipation. Peace. Absolutely nothing. Is that normal? I think I’m going to have to get used to tears and purchase a new bottle of waterproof mascara.

What I hate more than crying, though, is not crying. Already, there have been a few times when someone that I love has started to cry when struck with the reality of our upcoming separation. Since my own emotions are so weird, I often don’t cry back. I feel like that communicates my own lack of grief. It’s not that I don’t treasure these relationships. My emotions are just operating in overload mode, and I’m finding it difficult to manipulate them. I hate that! I dread the Sunday afternoons in Paraguay when I know that my family is sitting around the dinner table in Indiana, dialoguing about the relevance and faithful application of Scripture in today’s culture. Hopefully I’ll still be experiencing enough newness that missing Braden’s 5th birthday won’t be too overwhelming. I’m sure I will have to guard against depression, though, this Thanksgiving when I imagine everyone strolling the streets of Chicago, drinking apple cider and looking at the window displays on the Magnificent Mile. I know there will be times when I will miss Sarah so badly that I will turn on one of Dad’s worship mixes, collapse on my bed, ask Jesus to come and minister to my loneliness, and cry and cry and cry. Some Saturday nights will be hard, too, when I will so badly desire to be among the dear community that commissioned me, last night. And dang it that I’ll miss seeing my baby brother turn 21. Some days, I’ll really need Angela’s contagious joy, the inspiring sparkle in Hope’s peaceful eyes, the reassurance of Gene’s warmth and friendship, Myron and Dana’s encouragement, friendship, and wisdom, and Jodi, Eileen, Carol, and Ruth’s warm affirmation. On those days, I know that the Lord will provide through His own sweet presence, through His creation, and through His people. But I’ll also grieve. And He’ll grieve with me, because He didn’t create relationships to be broken. Even if I’m not crying now, I can assure you that when my tears do come, they will be almost unbearable.

My emotions are weird. Their unpredictability forces me to fall back into the faith that God can control them so they achieve that for which they were created. In that confidence, I can rest.