Here I am.

I am home. Well, at least, I am where my parents live. I am sleeping in a borrowed bed and spending time doing many of the normal everyday things they do. But for me, this is a vacation.

I get to sleep in. Stay up. Eat whenever. I’m not taking phone calls or writing reports. I’m not managing colleagues or tracking data. I am on vacation.

Vacation. From the Latin: ‘nothing-doing’

Vacation. I vacated my normal surroundings and took a jet plane to another. I like it.

So far I have been to the beach, laughed at the waves, cried at the smell, stared at the breakers. I have gone grocery shopping, driven to appointments, washed the dishes. I am on vacation. I am not working.

Yet, there is still much work going on. Daily, hour by hour, I am building bridges and burning others. I am forging ways I hope are right and abandoning those without light. I am on vacation from duties and worries that I MUST attend to. And so, I am on task with those I have put off in favor of the immediate duties. These personal duties are worrisome, but still worthwhile, I think.

I am wondering at the way of my God with me. I am learning the way of myself with a man. And rebuilding the way of myself with those I love. I am dissecting my comments and thoughts and relationships. I am hurting and ripping and tearing and scalding. But I am on vacation. And if I have to spend it in tears, then that is just what I’ll do. So that I may return from vacation newly wounded, freshly healed and able to stand firm once again.

I am refusing to run. Refusing to cower. Refusing to laud the chink in my armor. My weakness has been tested, will be tested, and I welcome it. May my current and recent trials lead to a more resilient warrior. I am on vacation. I am open, once again. I am vulnerable, once again. And yet, once again…

Here I am.