jakorte's blog

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Still stunned, I made my way back into our host church, found my GITC team, and took the last seat on the aisle. I didn’t know the young man I was sitting next to except by first name. My mind was working on a plan.

Children filed by me, dressed up and smiling, waving palms. It was Palm Sunday, and I was unable to focus on the significance of the day. I was unable to read the bulletin through my threatening tears. I stood silently listening to others singing in praise. Then, despite the state of my whirling, distracted mind, I heard the recognizable melody and words of “Amazing Grace.�

That is when the tears began. I have this silly issue with tears. I hate to draw attention to myself, especially when I am emotional. My theory, which has failed me many times before, is that if I do not swipe at my eyes, perhaps no one will notice that I am crying.

So, I remained still, letting the tears roll down my cheeks, and land on my shirt. When we sat down, I do what I always do when I am attempting to make sense. I took out my journal, and began jotting down notes. The tears didn’t stop, and more than once the young man next to me turned to look at me. I did my best to avoid eye contact, but finally it happened, anyway.

I must have looked as desolate as I felt, because suddenly there was an arm around my shoulders, patting my back. It was like an air stream had opened up and cleared a space for me to breathe in. It actually was worse to think that soon I wasn’t going to be alone in this anymore. I realized that I did not want to bring this burden to this team. I wasn’t willing to share it, and I wasn’t willing to lay it down.

The tears didn’t stop right away, but by the end of the service, they had. No longer willing to let my emotions control me, I had made my decision. This trip was over for me. I was going home.

jak