Confession

Have you ever seen someone you thought you knew and you didn't say anything to them...or you even avoided saying something to them.  I am ashamed to say that I have.  Okay, it rarely has anything to do with the actual person, but has more to do with my own insecurities.  I start wondering when I saw them last, what are they going to think about me now, about me then, about what I've done with my life.  Stupid, stupid things that keep me from being the friend I know I should be.  If only I could be so happy and fun like my mom and sister, Angie - or my husband for that matter.  They would never see someone they knew and not talk to them.  They love people far too much.  And I love people too, but I sometimes get caught up in how I might be perceived - I'm afraid of being judged I guess.  So there's my confession.  Here's the recent story that goes with my confession.  I've been to the Treehouse Museum three times this past month.  The first time I saw an old friend and was so concerned about why we hadn't talked or what might have happened that I ended up justifying the reasons I didn't go talk to her.  The second time I could not believe she was there again.  She was there two out of three times that we went.  Crazy!  I sat there taking pictures of my darling boys while inside I was fighting a major battle.  Why was she there again and why was I so nervous to talk to her?  What is your problem, Maria?  It is something I am definitely not proud of and I think about often. So here's the thing.  She came up to me and said hi as we were leaving.  And she told me I looked sad.  I know, you've read my posts and you think I'm sad too, but overall, nope, I'm just overwhelmed with kids and feel conflicted sometimes.  The sadness she saw, I believe, was my inner turmoil and struggle to do what I knew was right.  We exchanged emails and chatted for a minute and then I came home and wrote her an email apologizing for not reaching out to her and trying to catch up on my life.  She wrote me back and the things she has been through just make my heart ache.  I seriously sat up until 3 a.m. crying about the whole ordeal.  I won't share her story because it's not mine to share, but I will share my feelings about the whole thing.  As I've reflected on my friend, her life, my life and my weaknesses these past few days, I've realized it was actually the Spirit speaking to me and not just a desire to talk to a friend.  I have got to be better about listening to and following promptings.  Someone could need something and my own insecurities may cause me to ignore that need.  Oh, the intense emotions I feel right now.  I am grieving for a friend and also so angry and disappointed with myself for not recognizing the Spirit and trying to justify my behavior.  My cousin, Gail's, blog has the quote "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."  - Plato  

This weekend I realized just how true that statement is and I am determined to be better at listening and leaving my comfort zone in order to be a better friend and Christian.