I received wisdom from one friend. A financial gift from a new friend. I became upset with the financial gift because I felt what I was asking for wasn't being honored. Coming to the realization that God was answering my prayer, not by my rules, I reluctantly accepted the financial gift.
The next day was Palm Sunday. I did not want to go to church. I wanted to stay home and rest and not see or talk to anyone. I had no desire to be where God was. I was already angry at Him for many reasons and didn't want Him anywhere near me.
I walked through the doors, put my stuff down and went out into the atrium where I was told to see a member of my small group. As I waited, I was greeted by lovely people. When she saw me she reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope saying, "Someone wanted me to give this to you." I could see money through the envelope. My anger increased.
I walked to my seat. Worship had started but I was not there. Not in mind or spirit. In fact, I felt like I was having a seizure - unable to communicate and unable to move. My new friend, a woman I'm growing to love, was in the same row. She scooted her way down the row when I caught a glimpse of her out of my right eye. We hugged, she bent down to (I thought) move my bible, then she hugged me again.
I turned toward worship again then I turned my head to see if my Gatorade was there. I saw her check folded up on my bible. It was at that moment when the straw broke the camels back. I became instantly angry, grabbed my stuff, did not make eye contact with anyone, walked out both sets of doors to my car steaming mad. I opened my trunk, threw my bible in there with the check, took the envelope of money out of my pocket and threw it in there then slammed my trunk and starting walking away from the church.
When I was growing up and I'd stomp out of the house, my Dad would follow me. He'd grab hold of my arm, jerk me around then yell at me. I was stomping out of the house because my sister just had a tooth knocked out of her mouth by my other sister who was told to do it by my Dad. I couldn't see my little sister who was bleeding from her mouth. He yelled at me to get out of there so I did.
When I left church, I walked along a busy road tinkering with getting hit by a car. I wanted to be independent but I'd settle for dead. At least then my family would be taken care of financially and I'd be out of this hell hole of a world. Yes, death sounded like the best idea I've had in a long time.
I'm fighting to be independent and people aren't listening. I'm screaming out to receive ideas but only two respond, one of which I'm closest to. People have their own agenda when people like me express troubles. I don't want them to solve the problem for me. I want them to come alongside me to talk, listen, let me cry and get all the yuck out. In this case, money angered me to my core and I didn't want to live anymore.
I spent time with God, who I was also furious with, at a small park. I found a golf ball with the word "MOJO" on it. It made me smile. I talked to God about how sick I am of being super smart with a brain that operates part-time and is in conflict with itself. I told him how much I hated the money he's giving to me and he reminded me not to be mad at the givers. I told him how much I want to come home and I cried saying those words.
Home....I just want to come home.
"It's not time yet, Amy."
I walked back to the church and confessed my behavior to my new friend. She listened as I stumbled through what happened. I still wasn't sure talking about it was the best idea.
In the end, I retrieved my bible, the check and the envelope from the back of the car. I brought them into my house. I received them with an attitude of gratitude. Then I spent the rest of the day with another friend who listens and is helping me in so many ways.
I can't say I'm glad for that experience.
I can't say I won't do it again.
Running away is a false sense of safety.
I have to learn to run to safe.
No one can hug me or talk to me or pray for me when I runaway.
My new friend made in interesting statement.
She said something like, "You want me to be 25 feet away from you when you're scared."
I thought about it for a minute.
"No, I want you 25 feet closer to me but I'm afraid of having you too close."
Anger is an emotion that needs to be harnessed.
The more risks I take with safe people, the more comfortable I feel in taking those risks.
I pray that part of me continues to heal because I long to be hugged - not hit by a car.
