Anyone who knows my family's business knows that we are busy this time of year.  The stress over the last month has taken its toll on me, my husband, and my son, exhausting our strength physically, mentally, and emotionally.  Our relationships have become more distant and more difficult.  It was in this vein that Eddy and I went to church on Sunday morning.  Daniel was way behind in his work for the week, and had to miss church to finish treating a cemetery in Eau Claire.  

I checked Eddy in to Sunday school and wandered back through the halls, scanning the crowds for someone I knew.  I spotted a couple familiar faces, all engaged in deep conversations already. 'I guess I'll just find a seat.' Meandering slowly across the foyer, through an auditorium door, down an aisle, I noticed the second row in the center. Empty. Perfect. There was a pit in my stomach as I sat down. Soon others sat around me. Oh, well. The music started.  In turn, I joined in singing, greeted strangers around me, prayed aloud and silently, and sat to hear announcements, then the pastor's message.  It was good.  It seemed important. But it wouldn't sink in.  I couldn't make myself believe it in my heart, though I wanted to.  Halfway through the message, it began to compute -- living a life bigger than myself, not hoarding things I desire, but focusing on God, and thereby receiving all the blessings he would like to show me.  I thought of beautiful nature, of relationships, of new friends, of my church, of my nice house, my family, our business successes, of the cross, and other things.  But it didn't make me feel better.  I didn't feel blessed.   I felt confused, foggy, alone, weak.  At the closing music I was lost in my thoughts and out of touch with those around me.  I caught myself missing the offering bag completely, as the usher had to reach around me to hand it to another person, oops.  I closed my eyes.  The service ended.

I sat contemplating.  I waited for my Bible study leader to finish a conversation before she could talk to me about a group walk we had scheduled.  Looking around the emptying room I spotted a friend. She looked sad.  She walked toward me.  She was looking for a pastor to talk to.  She told me her troubles, her desires, her life situation.  I told her mine.  For her this was an important week.  For me it was, too.  We were at a loss for what to do, feeling the same, but under very different burdens.  A hug, a Scripture, questions, and suggestions finished our conversation.  We exchanged numbers and went to speak with our respective respected teachers.

We agreed to speak on the phone every day this week.  On Monday the first call time arrived.  We shared the help we received from our leaders.  We rejoiced in it, and prayed together.  Tuesday we shared our encouragements and insights, our struggles and prayer requests.  Wednesday we were both in a fog, and prayed to God, praising him for his goodness, and reminding each other of his love.  Thursday's call is fast approaching.  I wait for my few minutes with my friend, my connection with Eau Claire, my call to live the bigger life, to be a help and ask for help...to live beyond myself.