The stories I want to tell you are tumbling over themselves to get out. For a few days, I’ve been trying to write the one I thought should be first.
It’s a story about how people have tried to put my sabbatical in a box and how frustrating that is. “You were burned out, weren’t you?” is a refrain I’ve heard a lot, and it’s not accurate.
If anything the sabbatical kept me from getting burned out but even saying that reduces this journey in a way that doesn’t feel honest or honor what has happened. I need a bit more time and distance to distill what I want to say about that so for now I’m going to start with a story from the middle.
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While my oldest was home from college a few months ago he shared what he considered one of his favorite memories of all time. I had taken him (and his sister) out of school to go to Playland, a local amusement park.
I didn’t prompt him for the memory, He shared it while we were riding in the car, completely out of the blue. I could hear in his voice how it thrilled him to just think about it.
The idea that a boring day in school could turn into a magical adventure still affected at a deep level. I laughed as he regaled me with the tale. I also wondered how I could have forgotten such a day.
He shared detail upon detail. I didn’t let on to him that I had no memory of this Playland adventure.
Fast forward to last week. I was organizing bins from the attic (as someone with all the time in the world can do) and creating memory boxes for each of the kids. I tried not to look at every single piece of childhood artwork I dropped into each bin but one caught my eye.
I sat back against the wall, papers and pictures scattered everywhere and began to read. At the top was a picture my daughter had drawn and below it, her little person handwriting. The assignment was to draw and write the story of her best day ever.
The day she described was the same day my son shared, leaving school early to go to Playland. Again, I wondered how I could have forgotten something that stood out to each kid. Playland is one of my favorite places in the world. It would be weird not to remember being there.
Then scrawled at the top I saw the date. This special day happened just a few months after my mom had died. A time I barely remember. I felt like a zombie most of the time and remember it in a blur of incoherent moments.
I have often wondered how the kids experienced me as a mother back then. Did they feel like I was present? Did they feel loved?
Here it was … an answer.
It was like Spirit was saying to me “You may have forgotten what you were like, but you can trust who you are. You can trust your love never got lost.”
This is what this sabbatical has been like for me. Pieces of myself that I’ve lost along the way being handed back to me one at a time.
I promised to make these stories as helpful as I can so here is what I invite you to take from this one. Trust who you are. Even if you don’t always feel like you are living up to the best version of yourself, you are a gift to this world. Trust that the world is better for you being in it even if you can’t always see it.
If you are having a hard time believing me, ask Spirit to show you how special you truly are. You deserve to know.
I love you.
Patty
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