I feel alone. I am trying to do everything, and people still expect more from me. I’d like to run away to a secluded island for rest, peace, and quiet. I would love to be in a place were you can smell the morning and hear nothing but the birds; a place somewhere that’s nowhere, so I can clear my thoughts and regroup. But if I did, then who would answer Jeremiah’s letter, encouraging him to think of a possible 15-year sentence as just a stop on his journey? If I did, then who would talk with the boys and encourage their little triumphs? If I ran away, who would care whether the Mattapan neighborhood is underserved or whether the community can find a way to build upon its resources? And if I did find a place, where would that leave my children? Is this God saying, “Talia, prioritize,” or are the symptoms of premenstrual tension mystifying me?
Tags