I wrote this a few weeks ago and never posted it...
and decided tonight was the time to.
{Warning: raw honesty ahead.}
~
Less than a week after our vintage barn sale, you'd never know it happened at all.
The products that were left over have been shuffled around - some to storage, and some into the paint room to be spiffed up, and others have been packed up into bins for the trip to our next show. The 'rooms' in the barn are empty, and the breezeway has been stripped of props (and leaves, by the wind!). The tent is empty, save for a few ladders. The hay barn is, indeed, now holding only loose hay and a few leftover prop bales.
It's all looking kind of desolate, actually.
And yet it's necessary to 'strike the set' to begin again.
This theme seems to be playing itself out in my life a lot lately. A LOT.
Destruction of preconceived ideas, expectations, suppositions. Total devastation of what I thought the direction or the plan was supposed to be. Walls falling everywhere. {I truly feel like President Reagan is standing somewhere over my left shoulder shouting "Mrs. Kennedy, TEAR DOWN THAT WALL!"} Last Thursday, the wall fell - ON ME. Sometimes we just get dealt more than we can take at that particular moment. I can handle only so much - quite a bit, actually - and for a pretty sustained length of time. But I'm also like the proverbial camel... it only takes that
one.last.straw. to finally break my back and bring me to my knees.
{Oh, and lest that 'to my knees' part sound remarkably spiritual and Liz Gilbert-like, it wasn't like that
at all.} In the insanely heavy pouring rain and blowing wind, soaked to the skin, overwhelmed with too much to do in too short a time, having done everything at least three times because no matter how hard I tried, I did it wrong, and running on too little sleep and too much worry.... I fell to my knees kicking and screaming and ranting and raving
at God.
And oh MY did His Holiness get an earful from me.
I think I used every curse word in the English language - and then some. I yelled so loud I scared the birds outta' the trees. I unleashed my exasperation and fury into the air with the full expectation that it would reach Heaven with no loss in velocity or volume.
No thunder cracked or lighting struck, no 'sign from above' threatened me as I went on. And on. I sort of pictured God standing there with His hands on His hips, leaning against the barn, head cocked to the side, with a look of '
uh huh. Done yet?' on His beatific face. Just waiting for me to stop already.
But I didn't. Not for a long while.
I was so freakin' mad that I unleashed every bit of anger and fear and frustration and sadness and memories of past failures and struggles, and sent them into the air. My anger finally translated into energy, and I started hucking huge chain link fence sections and big ladders and hay bales around like they were cotton balls. I just pushed all of the stress into action.
Then Bob tried to confront me, and I turned it on HIM, poor man.
We had one helluva' fight. That hasn't happened in
years. In the midst of it all, we actually ended our marriage, canceled the show, closed our business, and disappeared off the face of the Earth. Yup, that was the plan - for all of twenty minutes. We had both just had more than we could take at that point. It ended in tears and collapse.
The only reason I stopped raging was because I finally ran out of steam. {
Yes, the kind that was coming out of my ears}. I had no curse words left. I had no voice left to scream with. I had no strength left in my arms to lift and move anything heavy. I had no fight left in me. I also had no faith, no hope, and no belief that things would
ever get better. Seriously, I went to bed begging God to just end it while I was sleeping because it was too damned painful to watch it all slip away while I was awake. I am tired of watching it all teeter on a hope a wish a prayer a dream and a veiled promise, waiting for some kind of conclusion to come.
I did wake up the next day. And the same things faced me, and the same things needed to be dealt with and done and prepared. The rain had stopped, tho, and the work I had done in a fury the night before had made a big difference in the way things were shaping up. So even in the midst of my destructive mood, things changed.
Creation happened.
A few hours later, vendors started showing up and they began bringing in their beautiful items to sell, transforming an empty breezeway and tent into an inspiring setting. Some lovely friends helped me transform my Petite barn into a real store, and the hay barn into a classroom.
The chaos and wreckage of the night before became something beautiful.
After the storm, the rainbow appeared.
And the chaos and wreckage of my spirit was healed by the kindness and helping hands of others, by the infinite patience of a God who knows that we are only human and because of that weakness, we break sometimes, and by the overwhelmingly long-suffering heart of my husband. The show went on because of all of the people who brought the rainbow to Retreat Farm.
It's been two weeks since I wrote that part above.
I'm still ranting at God.
It's in mumbled words and whispers now, questioning Him and wanting answers. Wanting action. Wanting reassurance. Wanting..... an end to the complete chaos that rages in our life, unseen by others.
I don't know if I'll ever get that. I don't know if we will
ever be able to finally own this land, and use the dang big barn that our whole entire wonderful business plan revolves around. I don't know how much longer I can live in this kind of stressful situation. Stress just breaks a person down bit by bit until there is nothing left to stand on. That's where faith comes in, I know... but my faith is a bit shaky right now. God is probably pretty tired of hearing from me about this whole issue, and I bet you are, too.....but it's where I am right now:
Staring at my barns every day, holding on tenuously to my dream.
Working as hard physically & mentally as I have ever worked in my life.
Doing everything I can to make this happen.
And as I look at the photo I chose to accompany this post, I realize it reminds me of a spiderweb. A spider works all day to create her home, to catch food, to survive, and usually the dew of night destroys it... and she has to start all over the next day.
Dear Lord, that is exactly how I feel right now...
