On Edge

I'm on edge, my priorities have shifted and it's been a blessing and a curse.

A few days ago at work, a mom sent me an email that was nothing out of the ordinary. There was an issue with her invoice, she had questions, etc. We exchanged a few emails before I received a phone call from a third party who was connected to the issue at hand. After hanging up, I was completely baffled. As it turns out, the casual email exchanges I had been making - emails that were pretty much routine and mundane - had infuriated the mom. She wasn't just upset with me, she was pissed. I was completely thrown for a loop. The issue was such a small problem that I knew we could easily resolve, but this mom was out for blood. It wasn't just business with her anymore, either; she was personally angry with me. As soon as I found out that I had upset her, I called her directly. I apologized profusely for completely missing the fact that she was upset, reassured her that all was well and that I was going to fix the problem. Still, the mom remained angry. I hung up, once more baffled.

I sat in my office, lights off but plenty of natural light flowing in through the oversized windows. I turned on Pandora to my "Classy" station that rarely seems to fail me, minus the occasional Avril Lavigne appearance that is promptly thumbed down. I re-read the emails, tried to put myself in the mom's shoes and analyzed the issue over, over, over, and over again. I called several people to consult with before proceeding - had I made an error that I was missing? Had I said something between the lines? Had I used a professional word that doubled as a slang word on the side?

After an hour of contemplating my next move, I gazed over at a picture of my husband. An 8x10 photograph in a $5.00 frame, placed on the corner of a table, held my entire world. I knew he was out on a mission, for him it was probably 11:30 at night. I imagined what he was doing. Was he "safe" in the truck, or had he been instructed to get out of the vehicle to walk the side of the mountain? Was he talking to the native people, trusting what appeared to be a friendly invitation to communicate? Was he taking direct fire - a situation I so desperately prayed he would never encounter? Was his truck moving - or had it been hit? Was he asleep? Awake? Cold? The questions that will never have answers came flooding into my mind when it finally hit me. This is why I don't get it.

I don't get why a mistake on an invoice is a big deal because the reality is, it isn't. I'm thankful God has given me this life, deployment included. It has truly changed my life and I don't think I can ever go back to the way I was. Experiencing pain and suffering in just the smallest forms of worry, anxiety and stress, have altered my perception of importance and what it means to spend time in frustration rather than turning it over to the Lord. Pre-deployment, I would have understood why this lady was so upset because I would have been worked up and I would have fed off of her own negativity and stress; now, I realize that these are the things that are so insignificant. These are the things that - and excuse me for getting a little Baptist on here - that the  devil uses to separate us from God. These are the things that do not matter, but that we allow ourselves to put emphasis on instead of realizing that there really are things greater than simple mistakes and self-created problems.

But not everyone has made this revelation yet - and even I forget it. And this makes for truly interesting conversations. As executive director -and no, I never get tired of working that into my blog- I am hit with problem after problem, day in and day out. People literally come barreling into my office with loud voices, hurried and frantic explanations of what they consider pressing issues and sometimes I find that they are vastly disappointed in my calm state. Yes, I know the basement is flooded. No, I don't have a hammer. Yes, I know the kiln has a broken part. No, I do not care about what size the mirrors are. No, I'm not sure if we're insured for that. Yes, I found the contract that someone forgot to sign. No, tickets are not selling. Yes, it's true the wall fell down.

Life happens. Mistakes happen. But there are bigger things than these.

That being said, I admitted that sometimes I forget this lesson. After avoiding political talk on Facebook for months, I finally posted a status about my support for Obama. It wasn't long before a young person commented on my status with very amateur facts; clearly in opposition to my Facebook status I saw one thing and one thing only: myself. I was reminded of my 8th grade self sitting in class, proudly wearing my Kerry / Edwards t-shirt, debating with my language arts teacher about why George Bush should not be president again. My points were decent but not well researched. I was passionate - completely passionate - with valid points but poor execution. I was blessed to be surrounded by many people who helped shape my debating abilities, who taught me more about what I believed and who even made me realize I wasn't quite as liberal as I thought. Slade is me, but on the other side.

So I did what those before me did for 8th grade me. I talked some, debated minimally, articulated my genuine pleasure in seeing his passion and attempted, in some kind of way, to help shape who he would become in terms of political involvement and informed citizenship. I know it sounds crazy that all of this was running through my head, and honestly it wasn't like I had an internal dialogue at the time, but in essence that was what was happening.

And then, it happened. I sort of kind of lost my cool. I mean, I didn't really lose my cool but I was on the brink of it and I do not like the brink. These days, I like to stay pretty far away from the brink because it's much safer, less tiring and let's be honest, no one really likes that guy who always gets snappy and know-it-all-ish. But he questioned my prayer for our troops; my husband.

And that just did it for me. I had to dust off my soap box because it had been awhile, but I managed to step up on it for a quick second and blow off a little steam. It wasn't until writing this that I realized something profound through all of it; four years ago, disgracing the president would cause my blood to boil and my anger to rage but today, it took questioning a part of my faith to invoke passion and petition. I think there is something to be said for that, although I'm not quite sure what that something is just yet.

Of course, it had to be a member of a family that I happen to love a lot that started a conversation with me. That part, perhaps, makes me the saddest because I never want to alienate those who I hold dear for the sake of making a point. It's ironic, because his mom is actually the person who - months ago - told me about how her ancestors have prayed Psalm 91 over their deployed children since the Civil War, and to do it for my husband while he was gone. And I have done this and I can't even describe the way it has changed me. Starting my nightly prayers off with that Psalm truly sets the most incredibly tone for my prayer, especially for the prayers meant for my husband.

Maybe I've been up for too long with few hours of decent sleep, or maybe I've been staying strong for a few weeks too long but I'm feeling less than relieved at the moment. Maybe I need a good night's sleep and coffee in the morning to make me realize I should learn to let these things go - even the things I think are worth stepping up on my soap box for.

I'll consider this a lesson learned, an experience experienced. For tonight, I have prayers for my husband, prayers for my Facebook friend and prayers for myself.