For many years I have taken my vacation in August. For nearly every one of those years, crisis has hit at some point in the month. I brought this up to my therapist in July (yes, I see a therapist and yes, I highly recommend it). I admitted that I find myself anticipating what will/could/maybe never go wrong. It’s like I am bracing myself for the worst. Then she asked me a very good question: if crisis happens this August, what will you do? My meandering answer, one that I will spare you, ended in an important spot- recognition that I will be present to it and that there will be a way through. I can do hard things, not because of my own strength, but because of the strength that is given to me again and again. I was also challenged to imagine that nothing bad will happen. Worrying could just dampen the excellent things ahead.

Now, I am no stranger to worry/anxiety. It can reside quietly in my gut or noisily in my head where my imagination runs wild. This is something I have needed to work on since being a child. Fortunately, I have experienced a lot of healing, though it would be false to say it’s gone. All you need to do is read the first paragraph again for proof. Therefore, it was of note to me when I recently read about how anxiety and excitement are such close cousins that one can be mistaken for the other.

As I drove to the cabin that friends so graciously share with me every summer, I noticed that familiar feeling of anxiety in my stomach. Only this time I asked myself if it was anxiety or excitement. The answer? The latter! I then burst into tears of the happy and relieved kind. It felt like a breakthrough moment, one that I expect will act as a future prompt to check in on what I am actually feeling.

Many of you have been praying for me in anticipation of my holidays. Thank you. I truly believe your prayers have helped release me to enjoy and replenish. Today I played tag with two loons while in a kayak, sat in the sun, admired duelling hummingbirds, read, and found the desire to write, definite evidence that I am resting. Soon I will return to the city. There are a number of things planned and a lot of things not, which to me is a nice balance. I’m missing The Dale and my teammates, and am soaking in the support for a chunk of time off.

In the quiet of the cabin where I now write, I am gratefully in the moment. The sunset pictured below accompanied the evening. I don’t know what the remainder of August will look like, but all I feel right now is peace. And maybe a little excitement.