The meeting was designed to be easy, fun, and hope filled. As I headed out from the office, I ignored my body’s early signals that all was not well. We had a lot to cover – client proposals, upcoming meetings, and potential business opportunities! I was naively confident that everything would work as planned.
Metaphorically, the rain showers should have set the stage within my mind that things were no going to be sunny. While rain geared protected me from the elements outside, the warning signs started to grow. By the time I sat down, I was multitasking. With one part of my mind, I was catching up, exploring options, and talking about potential solutions. With another part, I was replaying what I had eaten earlier (nothing out of the norm), how much water I had consumed (2 liters plus), and if I had come in contact with anyone sick.
As I continued to recheck my memories, there was one encounter that triggered a question but nothing pointed to something that said I should be feeling anything but normal.
As the minutes pass, I went from good to bad and onto ugly. At some point I realized I was going to have a tough time getting home on the motorcycle. Physically I was in trouble. My stomach was in knots, a combination of cramps, sharp pains, and twists that increasingly demanded my full attention! With no other symptom that I could use to analyze possible reasons for the situation, I was at a loss as to a cause or a solution.
“Are you ok?”
“I am not sure.”
“You should go, now. We can finish another day. Are you sure you can get home?”
I replied, not answering the question. My mind wanted to blame someone, anyone; “don’t return [me] us to mud, saying, ‘back to where you came from!’” (Psalm 90.3) I look back at the ride and steps between then and bed, realizing that it felt like I was losing everything.
With rest, care, and sleep, to my surprise a new day and hope arrived.
