What Could Have Been the Horrible, Terrible No Good Day…

I cannot start this post stating that today was the worst day of my life, although I would really like to.  But if my mother read this, she would state, quite clearly, that it couldn’t be the worst day of my life because I already had that years ago… several times.  (That’s the great thing about my mother and something I remember fondly about her.  I would come home and say, “I had the worst day of my life!” and over time, and as the drama escalated in my life, she would just look at me and say, “It couldn’t have been the worst day of your life.  You had that last week.”  My God.  I love my mother.)

So I can’t say that it was the worst day of my life, and quite honestly?  It wasn’t.  I could peg a few days in my life that WERE in contention for the title and if what happened today is the worst thing that happens, then I’m truly blessed.  (Remember now, I’m of the fake it til ya make it mentality and 9 times out of 10, it works.  So let’s pray, for the sake of my sanity, that this is one of those 9 times, m’kay?)

Work (and yes I know that I still owe you a post about that) wasn’t bad per se, but it was a little on the hectic side.  I was late leaving the office and when calling the boy to let him know that I was swinging by Wendy’s (we have Wendy’s Wednesdays — it’s the only night that we eat out and I can feed 6 for $13.60.  I know, impressive right?)

Anywho, he’s at the ball field with all the kids and they are having a good time.  I have no problem with that, however, remember my rant yesterday?  My epiphany on why I write?  Happened again today.  The problem?

Today, I wasn’t in the right frame of mind and as a result I let it affect me.  So, in turn, I allowed myself to have a little pity party.  And of course, when I communicated this with him, he felt horrible and we started apologizing all over each other.  (Hey!  I told you we’re gross.)

I wasn’t mad at him.  It was me.  I know the truth.  I know reality.  But I allowed myself to get all bummed out.

And since we’re in between youth pastors at the moment, it’s all me at church and I’m worn out.  I knew it when I woke up this morning and while I had my lesson prepared, the boy suggested we go play kickball.  I agreed.  I figured it might help me and it was such a pretty day outside.  However, I will admit, I was still not in the normal “Heather mood”.

Due to the fact that I won’t expose members of my youth group without their permission, I won’t go into too much detail, however I can state that by the time youth was over, I had a knock out, drag down with one of my youth kids, another tiff with the boy and I walked into the Prayer Meeting as it was ending, hauled Pastor Man out and proceeded to lose it in his office.  And when I say lose it?

Oh it was bad.  I mean really bad.  Like snot flying out of my nose bad.  I had every intention of telling him that I was done.  I wanted to tell him that I would stick it out until the new youth pastor came aboard but that I was done.  I wanted to scream and say, “I’m tired of having a servant’s heart because all it’s doing is stressing me out.”

But the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth.  I tried.  I tried hard.  I’ve overcome so much in the past year and I’ve kept my head held high.  He said some very nice things about me to the congregation last week.  Or so I hear.  I was in the nursery with eleven kids and why any one thought I would be able to hear the service on the little TV in there is beyond me.  But he told people about my heart and about my passion.  He shared with them that they don’t see the things that I do, rather just the side of me that’s in service on Sunday.  He mentioned that I had lunch with them and emailed them and the like and I wish I could’ve heard it.  As someone with a love language of words of affirmation, it would’ve boosted me, but, I don’t do this for recognition.  I do this because I have a calling.  I am called to capture young hearts for the kingdom and so even though I WANTED to say screw it, I couldn’t.

After we prayed and I removed all traces of snot from my face I looked at him and said, “I don’t think I’ve had a conversation in here with you since the very first time I met you. And please don’t tell anyone that I cried.”

I also go the sermonette on how I don’t have to be the tough girl all the time.  Heard it before.  I’m just not a crier.

Anywho, I talked to the parents.  I rounded up the kids and I headed back to retrieve Matthew from the boy’s house.  I was spent.  It’s how I get when I release the snot.  I didn’t want to be around anyone, not because I was in a foul mood, but because I just had no energy.  I dead headed my petunias, searched for new blooms on my daisies and realized that the plants were in need of water and I’m almost ashamed to say this…

It was therapeutic.

Please don’t tell the boy I said that.  Or my mother.  Let’s just keep that between us, k?  Thanks much.

Anywho, the boy and Matthew and Samara were throwing the ball around and all of a sudden I heard, “That was in the face,” followed closely by, “I feel blood!  I feel blood!”

I had no energy to rush to Matthew’s side.  None.  But I didn’t really need to have any as the boy quickly ushered him in the house and I followed.  He had it under control and we all know how I don’t do blood.  My contribution to the clean up and fix up was to grab a bag of frozen corn out of the freezer and offered it up as an ice pack.

I know.. mother of the year, right?

My deepest apologies, Matthew.  I just couldn’t handle it right then, and since the boy had things under control, I let him handle it.

It wasn’t until we were getting ready to leave and I asked to see his mouth that I realized we’re going to have to go to the dentist tomorrow.  The tooth is crooked and the boy says that the gum will tighten up around it but it’s going to be crooked.  Samara’s response was, “braces will fix it” and while that’s true, even though I really can’t afford to make a trip to the dentist, it’s cheaper than braces.

Hey Dave Ramsey?  Did you hear that?  I’m making wise financial choices.

I left the boy’s house feeling dejected, sorry for myself, alone.  I came home to vent, whine and complain about all the things that went wrong today.  I wanted to continue my pity party and invite all of you to join me.

However, let me tell you the good things that happened today…

I get to blog at work.  Seriously.  I was asked today to blog on the company blog.  So I’m getting paid to twitter and blog!  How freakin’ awesome is that?

What’s more?  I got the nicest compliments from two of the gentlemen that I work with.  In fact, I told the boy that when I grow up, I want to be the woman that J and S think I am.

And then?  When I got to youth, one of my girls came up to me and said, “Heather, I just wanted to let you know that I told that boy that I couldn’t talk to him anymore.  I love you and value your opinion.”

PTL!!!  Someone’s paying attention to me.  Someone listened to me!

And then?  After my public apology to the members of my youth group for the events of the evening, one of the gals said, “I still love you, Heather.”  And her dad?  Oh her dad is wonderful.  He asked if he needed to address anything at home and when I said no, I started to tear up again.  He just opened his arms and gave me the biggest teddy bear hug.

I was reflecting upon these things in the short drive home and when we pulled in the driveway, there was a box on the porch.  It was plants.  And all of a sudden my heart sank.  I didn’t want more dirt and roots.  What a bummer, right?

Guess what?

Guess what was in that box labeled “this side up”?

Live plants.  With flowers even.  Seriously!  This is what was in that box!

Ok, so that’s not what they look like now, but after I plant them, and they grow a little bit, that’s what they’ll look like… if I keep them alive long enough…

So now I have plants and color and the like.

So was today a terrible, horrible, no good day?

Could be… if I allow it to be.  Quite honestly, I know it’s an attack.  Satan can suck it for all I care.

I’m not going to let him win.  Nope, not me.

To the victor goes the spoils and as a Child of God, that means me.  (Don’t you love that?  Totally lifted it from the devotion I shared with my youth group tonight.)

But at least I got some blog fodder.

To all my twitter friends… thank you.  When I voiced my feelings on not being heard, you were there… listening.  It’s what I needed.  I am ever so grateful.

Until next time…