How did I miss that?

If you've stayed with me this long, you are obviously a glutton for punishment. I have done nothing but burden you with emotional baggage for three months, Reading my drivel is the equivalent to slowing down to catch a glimpse of a car wreck. 

Or, maybe you are among the few who have been with me for awhile and have realized that someone is missing from the story.

No. Not Brad Mosiman. Most of you are astute enough to realize that if Amy Mosiman is still standing,  it's because Brad Mosiman propped her up and tied her shoes. Brad Mosiman is always there. And for the last few months, he's been in agony because he, too, could see that we were on an unalterable course. It's tough for Brad Mosiman to not captain the ship he's on; especially when it is so clearly heading toward the shoals. So he did what he could. Adjusted the sails. Scrapped off barnacles. And...when all else failed, grabbed a bucket and began to bail.

No. The person you are looking for is strangely absent from this story. 

She had appeared  a few years ago, at the introduction of one crisis and then vanished with the arrival of this most recent one. 

Where is the girl who hid in a mulch bag fort at the grocery store? Who wept in restaurants and stood, paralyzed with fear, outside of automated doors? She was severely agoraphobic...embarrassed, ashamed, and afraid.  Where did she go?

"That's what I was wondering," my friend Deb said, shrouded in the shadows of her darkened kitchen, mid-crisis, "but then I figured it out."

Enlighten me then, oh wise one. Deb had witnessed my panic attacks. Watched me wipe away the tears that humiliated me. Waited for our food orders as I fled the building. I was shackled to that frightened girl. As much as I despised her, she wasn't going anywhere.

"I've sat here and listened to you describe how the Lord has been working in your life," Deb smiled, "but you missed the biggest one." I waited, hopeful, because those small glimpses of God were the only things sustaining me. "During Covid, God made sure that Brad was there to support and protect you, yes?" I nodded. "But where is Brad now?" 

Prior to my Dad's fall, Brad Mosiman had been spending months preparing for the opening of his gym in January. We could not hit the pause button on that. Brad was working a full-time job with overtime, working at his gym, and scrambling to help my family all he could. "That was God," Deb told me, "He knew it was time to take Amy's crutch and hand her a sword."

I couldn't breathe, staring at my friend across the table. I felt numb as I considered her words along with my actions over these last few months. I have had to be demanding, persistent, obnoxious (which was never much of a stretch for me), and sometimes downright ugly. I have had to pretend to be strong for my parents. I have had to pretend that my world was not imploding for my students. I had assumed that that other girl was still with me because, despite all of my pretending, I was always so afraid.

But I was wrong. Without me noticing, she had quietly packed her things and left...like a morbid Mary Poppins...her work with me was done.

I've lost a lot during these last few months. But along the way, I gained part of myself back. I can walk into a grocery store by myself and not feel like warped walls are closing in on me. I can make simple decisions without having a melt-down. I can go out to eat at a restaurant without traumatizing the waitress with a flood of tears.

I smiled at my dear friend. "Let's go out for breakfast tomorrow," I said, "My treat."

"I wouldn't miss it," she grinned.