A letter to God. -– Rock The Wrinkle

Dear God:

I just need to talk to someone. I need to say what’s happening and how small I feel.

You know I’m moving across country again. I”m sure you know, since it seems some doors have permanently closed where I am, forcing me to make some decisions I wasn’t quite ready for. But you know best, so I’m going. Going back where I moved from almost 10 years ago. Back to familiar places and faces and humidity. All that’s okay. (Insert whatever huge, scary, or confusing thing you are going through here.)

But tell me, why does it have to be so hard? Isn’t there a lever up there somewhere that a big burly angel can pull where things fall into place? Repairmen show up? Nothing breaks the week before you try to sell your house? The paint matches the porch? That person calls you back?

I guess not. Or my angel’s sleeping on the job. Because I can report that this move is even harder than the last one, which I thought nothing could top.

This time around, I decided to update my kitchen to help my house sell faster. Great. Except they flooded my hardwood floor, which is still waiting to be fixed. Because no one ever shows up.

Then I decided to have someone repair-paint my front porch. Only the paint in the can doesn’t match the paint on the porch. And the paint experts in the paint expert store took two hours to perfect match it. (Close enough would have been fine with me.)

Then there’s the fact that I can’t find the safe deposit box key for the safe deposit box at the bank. See, I need to find the key to open the box so I can then close it. But without the key, the bank has to call angry men with big tools who will drill it open. And everyone will stare.

Then there’s other people who want me to do things that I can’t do now that I’m in the packing-moving-cleaning-worrying mode. I just physically can’t do some of the things my friends want to do. And my mind is somewhere in a box, but I can’t remember which one. Yet I value friendship right now more than ever, and it feels like some people are pulling away from me, which is really painful.

And of course, there’s the clients who sit quietly all year and now, that I’m in a vortex of stress, want me to fly to meetings. Attend conferences. Tour facilities. Rewrite War and Peace. And I simply can’t do it.

Of course, these aren’t real problems. Real problems are diseases, death, not having enough to eat. I know that. Yet I also know at the time, whether it’s seeing your parent helpless after a stroke, or leaving the vet in tears after your pet is put to sleep, or knowing your marriage is over, or being so worn out from a repairman never showing up time and time again, it can all just become too much.

And I don’t like that feeling.

Change is hard anytime. I confess it’s harder when you get older. But I’m beginning to wonder if I’m truly getting feeble.

I’m scared the house won’t get on the market when it should.

I’m filled with anxiety about disappointing people.

II’m worried the right house won’t be on the market at the right time.

I’m just so tired emotionally.

I don’t want to cry about it.

I’m tired physically. I know I’m not eating right.

I’m not exercising so I’m getting fat.

I’m worried about my dog.

I did cry this morning.

I don’t do well with unfinished messes.

I hate worrying about money.

I want to do something truly meaningful.

I’m weary.

I keep thinking it will get easier.

I just want to be happy.

Yet in the back of mind, somewhere behind the empty Cheetos bags and my college diploma, there’s the voice that inspired me a decade ago….you can do this! You can change your life! You have the energy! The universe is waiting to help you! You aren’t giving up your dream, you’re just changing course!

And I do still believe that. I truly do. I think everyone over 50 should stop, look around, and decide if there’s an adventure they want to pursue—and pursue it. Scared, tired, or unsure, just do it. I wouldn’t give up mine for anything. I’ll always have it. And now, I know I”m just starting a new adventure.

A little older, yes. Joints a little more creaky, you bet. But somewhere in there, my spirit is still the same.

But it’s also important to stop occasionally and just make a plea to God, the universe, or whatever spirit or being you talk to.

Admit you’re scared. Exhausted. Confused. It’s okay. And it’s the part of the grand adventure that a lot of people don’t talk about.

But they should. Because that’s when the grace comes.

When you’re feeling weaker and more afraid than you ever have. When it feels you truly are unraveling.

Then it’s important to remember that feeling is not the same as reality sometimes.

And if you’re friends or the sister or brother of someone who is making a major scary life change, don’t pull away. Let them know you are there. Listen. Pray for them. Take the late night phone call. You might be feeling some pain and anxiety too, but just consider they might be feeling like they’re in a black abyss and no one is in there with them. Just help them breathe.

Anyway, God, I’m just checking in. You know, sharing. Turning it over. Letting go. Because I need your calm. Peace. Strength. Courage. Wisdom. Patience. Healing.

And maybe another bag of Cheetos.