Sunday morning and another snow storm in NH. It's a real problem for us, because we live 30 minutes away from our church and most Sundays, Jim and I are (happily!) scheduled to serve in some capacity. This morning, Jim was scheduled to play electric guitar, so he took our all-wheel-drive to church. I'm not scheduled for anything, and I didn't want to sit there for 6 hours waiting for him (we have 3 services, plus a morning rehearsal) so I stayed home. Normally, if I'm not scheduled, I would drive our second car and just show up for one of the services, but there was no way I was going to take our little front-wheel drive in this mess!
|Jim texted me this pic from outside our church|
If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you probably know where this is going. I was pretty worried about Jim driving this morning. I reminded him several times about being safe and to take his time, etc. When he went to kiss me goodbye, he said, "You're looking at me like it's the last time you're ever going to see me." Oh boy. Busted! I started laughing, because that was exactly what I was doing! I was trying to visually absorb every molecule of him "just in case." After 25 years of marriage, he can pretty much read my mind.
The other thing I was anxious about this morning (yes, of course, there's always another thing) was a fellow member on the audio team at church. I was originally scheduled to run sound this morning, but an opportunity came up for me to visit a church in Boston to do some research for my church. As a result, there was all kinds of switching and schedule changing, and someone else (I'll call him Ted) was put in my place this morning. However, because of the incoming snow storm, my field trip to Boston got cancelled yesterday. At the time, I figured it made sense to just let Ted stay on the schedule because of all the rearranging that had taken place.
Then it hit me early this morning. Ted was going to have to drive to church in this storm. In my place. Because of me. All I could think about was that Ted is married and has two little kids. If something happened to him it would be all my fault. I asked my husband if I should call Ted and tell him I would run audio. Jim said, "No, that would be totally OCD. Nobody else would do that. It's hyper-responsibility." So I agreed not to call him, although I wasn't sure that was the right decision.
Now, hours later, my anxiety is pretty low. I've learned that if I sit with it, it eventually dies down, or goes away altogether. It's 12:30 p.m. and I know that church is wrapping up and people are getting in their cars to drive home. I'm praying for them, and that is all that I can do. I don't know what will happen. I've decided to accept that. Uncertainty. You've got to love it. No, really, you've got to learn to love it.