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Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Ah, crap. I'm right back where I was three weeks ago.
I was kind of hoping that my previous stress-fest was mostly caused by having to give my first sermon and that things would be better this time, since I'm actually looking forward to the next one. Which isn't technically, you know, written yet, it's just a bunch of ideas that need to be strung together.
But here I am, freaking out again. The breathing thing isn't as bad, but I had a giant crying jag first thing this morning, the kind where you sound like a little kid, trying to gulp some air.
Right now it seems like I don't want to be a deacon, but my reasons for that are pretty lame and selfish and ultimately rooted in self-doubt and, well, we know how much God cares about that sort of thing. I can think of a bunch of places in both the old and new testaments where he could have said, "You know, you're right, what I'm asking does seem like a bit too much, so never mind, I'll figure out some other way!" But, of course, God's all, oh, just do it and I'll be there to help. So I'm trying to trust in that and get through this.
I wonder if maybe there isn't some wisdom to the way that other dioceses do things, where you can't even start school until you've gone through the whole formal discernment process, with the parish vocations committee and the Commission on Ministry and the bishop and the psych testing and all those hoops.
I haven't done any of that yet, mostly because it scares me, although I was able to convince people that I had other valid reasons. And because the psych testing costs around $1,000. That buys you the Myers-Briggs and the MMPI and some other #2 pencil kind of things, not anything especially deep. They just want to be sure you don't think that you're God. Shit. I'm barely able to pay for school.
So I lack the official stamp on my forehead saying that I am called to this, and I'm actively wrestling with the question SHOULD I be doing this while I'm trying to actually do it, and maybe this was just a completely stupid-ass way to go about things. Gosh, imagine, Sara's tendency to rush the fuck into things is biting her on her ample buttocks. That never happens. Daily.
I feel a bit self-conscious writing about this yet again, since I know it's an extremely boring and very first-world problem. Seriously, just go read Mimi Smartypants or Television Without Pity or something. They are way smarter than I am. Come back in a couple of years to see how it all shakes out.
Dennis is on alert that he's dealing with crazy Sara, and will be taking excellent care of me. Clyde will hopefully be providing much lap-cat purr therapy. I have an appointment to talk to my dr. about maybe adjusting my anxiety meds in the direction of UP, and I see my spiritual director next week and meet with my formation group from school, so I have some resources. I just need to hang on.
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