Tears and Scars

I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Today was Fast Sunday. I ate before I realized this, and then rationalized it because I wasn't feeling well even though I didn't eat enough for it to help me feel much better. I wanted to finish my book before church, so I decided to walk instead of leaving with everyone else. For some reason, I completely spaced out and forgot about the shortcut. My heels gave me multiple blisters. Oh yeah, I'm also on my period. Basically, the day wasn't off to a real good start. I wasn't really in a bad mood or negative, maybe just a bit more sensitive than usual (which is saying something).

At church, I found out some stuff that I won't go much into because it involves someone else's personal life. Basically, it seemed that she was in a situation similar to mine, but possibly worse. Realizing that someone was feeling the same pain I was feeling, and then some, had a profound effect on me. Thinking about my own situation, and the possibilities of hers, made it impossible for me to hold back tears.

This made things pretty interesting when it was time to teach Sunday School to a group of seven and eight year olds. I usually have another adult with me, but she didn't show today. Someone else (who I'm actually a bit more comfortable with) was there to give one-on-one attention to a boy with special needs, but I was pretty much on my own to teach the lesson. I thought I could handle this, but I'm not sure how successful I ended up being.

It really wasn't all that bad until I checked the time. The only watch I have doesn't match all my clothes, so I rarely wear it. Instead, I was using my cell phone to keep track of time. My phone was on silent, but I tried to check the time just as my phone lit up with a call from my husband. Knowing that he will be back in town soon, and not having fully recovered from my recent episode of crying, tears and a suddenly tight throat interrupted my lesson. The children gave me looks of concern and asked what was wrong, but I brushed aside their worries, regained as much composure as I could, and continued the lesson.

Afterward, one girl stayed in the classroom until everyone else had left. She would be getting baptized in the evening. When we were alone, she asked me why I had been crying. I told her that I had just had a hard day, but she asked again. I tried giving the same answer, but this time I was fighting back the tears that would not be held at bay much longer. The girl looked very concerned, worried, maybe scared. She didn't know what to do, and I couldn't say anything more, so she left. I saw that same look on her face again when I appeared at her baptism.

I hope I haven't scarred her in some way.