And the Oscar Goes To...

"All the world's a stage..." as Shakespeare said. Every day people put on a performance, whether they intend to or not. Somedays we just don't feel like going to work, but we put on our "happy face" and do the best performance we can. You may run into a former friend or colleague who you would rather not speak to so you smile and make as little small talk as possible. Maybe there is that one person that you do your best to avoid if possible, even acting like your on the phone when you see her in the store (not that I have ever done that, ahem). There have been times I have given an awesome performance of the best mother on the planet, only to lose it as soon as the car doors close. Face it, some days are just survived by playing our role. Other days those roles get to be burdensome and heavy.

"You are so strong." "I don't know how you do it." I hear this almost every day. I used to hear it multiple times a day following my husband's death. From the moment I knew he was gone I have been playing a role. I had to be the strong one. I couldn't let anyone see me fall apart. What example would that set for my girls? What good would it do in the long run? I grew up being more mature than my age. I don't know if it was being the sixth kid in the family, being taller than most everyone in my class so they thought I was older, or if it was because I was pretty smart. I didn't grow up in a "touchy-feely" home with open emotions, unless you count anger and regular sibling angst. My older brother tended to tease me - a lot - and I refused to let him see my get upset. I wouldn't let the kids at school know their words about my height or clothes hurt me. I would cry in my pillow at night or while hugging my basset hound Fred, but I would not give my tormentors the satisfaction of knowing they got to me. I have carried this behavior into adulthood, for better or worse. Usually I could vent my frustrations to Maddy (unless it was him I was upset with). I knew he would listen without judging me. Now I hold most of it in, letting it swirl around in my mind.

Now when I hear "You're so strong." I cringe inside. I feel like a fraud. Just as a weightlifter, though he or she be extremely strong, can only hold the barbell overhead for so long, I am beginning to get shaky trying to hold up all this weight. The stress of doing it all myself. The anxiety from wondering if I'm making the right decisions. The uncertainty of a future that will not look like what I had planned. The responsibilities that I still have in my everyday life. Some days it feels like someone keeps adding more weight while I'm straining under the load already on the bar. I know that I don't have to carry this weight alone. I know that God is ready to carry my burdens for me, if I will only let go. I have clung to that promise from the beginning, but as more time passes it seems that my grasp is slipping. I know that no one will think less of me if I throw down the weight and take a deep breath, but it's still hard to let it go.

If you happen to see the crack in my armor, just know that I am doing my best to pretend it's still intact. I am slipping on my mask and putting on the best performance I can. When I get alone there is a great chance that I will shed all of it and let myself fall apart. Each day brings a different set of emotions and, perhaps, a new performance.

Through Christ, I know that this "storm", this "trial", this "season" will pass. I know that He has a plan for my life. I know that His way is best. I know that He can see the big picture and I can only see a small section. Most days I let these truths hold me up so I can attack the day. I also know that some days my head knowledge and my heart feelings may not be on the same page. I hope if you see me on one of those days that you will offer a kind word, a hug, or some time to let me talk.

This journey is long and, just like an Oklahoma road, full of potholes and construction zones. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to plan my route so I'm just along for the ride. I'm hoping to learn to enjoy the new scenery and find joy along the way. Perhaps I won't have to pretend then.