I’m sacrificing the comfort of my own bed and the predictability of my life for a weekend away with friends.
This was the beginning of my journal entry Saturday morning.
When the invitation came electronically through my phone asking for dates that might work, I felt conflicted.
There is always so much going on that it is never a good time, and yet, sometimes space just needs to be created.
I had one open weekend. One possibility. It wouldn’t hurt to try. At worst, it wouldn’t work out; at best we would be away from our daily grinds basking in the joy of friendship.
The date was a go, and emails began to move, making plans.
Stuff began to surface in me that I could no longer stuff down.
What am I going to contribute?
I am gifted at caring for a multitude, how do I care for me?
Is this even worth it?
My husband, ever supportive, reminded me that time away with friends is always worth it, so I persevered.
Saturday morning, looking through the window of my room at the morning sunlight casting itself brilliantly over the colorful leaves of the tree just outside, I felt thankful.
Thankful for being included. Yes, it was absolutely worth it.