A Bad Feeling

Going back to work today wasn’t too bad. Tomorrow will likely be more difficult because I’ll have less adrenaline. But today was okay…except that I carried an underlying sense of anxiety all day—because of the book that I’m reading.

I’ve read the book before—a clearance book from the Books-A-Million in Columbia—but I don’t remember anything about it. The basic plot is of a twenty-something going home for her brother’s wedding, only her brother is uncertain as to whether or not he should go through with the wedding because he has fallen in love with another woman. He must figure out what to do and she must face her past.

The book is fine. Decently written. Decently read. But I’ve been so worried about the fiancé that I’ve been anxious for the entire four hours that I’ve been reading (with my ears)—and evidently in the hours when I’ve not been listening in my car—that I haven’t really been able to enjoy it.

The writer doesn’t share the fiancé’s point of view. The only things we know about her come from the narrator’s perspective. So we don’t know what she’s thinking—how she’s feeling—if she has any clue that her wedding is likely going to be cancelled and that a ten year relationship is likely going to end—or if she’s going to have a huge bomb dropped on her. Regardless, she’s in a really bad situation…and no matter what happens, she’s going to be really hurt. She’s either going to be marrying a man who loves another woman or she’s going to be forced to walk away from the man she thought she’d be with forever—and neither are really fair to her—nor are the lies she’s been told—or the information that’s been kept secret—or the choices that have not been given to her to make.

I know. You may be thinking. This is a fictional character, Rev. Dee. But is it really? Isn’t this the story of so many people? Maybe not the possibility of a cancelled wedding on the wedding weekend—although I know that that happens more often than any of us want to admit—but the unfairness, the lies and half-truths, the secret information, the choices not offered, the imbalance of power, the not-knowing how to have a really difficult conversation. Might this be your story, too?

I remember struggling with similar thoughts as I walked up and down the halls of the hospital where I served as chaplain. On so many occasions, I felt horrible knowing that I knew difficult information that families did not know—yet I couldn’t say a word. I held an unfair power advantage in the situation—and sometimes I had to have conversations with people, trying to remain present and non-anxious, knowing that their loved-one was dying—knowing that their hearts were going to break momentarily—when all information was made known. I hated the knowing. And I hated imagining how I’d feel if I were on the other side of myself.

So I guess that’s what this book has done to me—made me imagine how it would feel to be the fiancé unknowingly waiting for life-changing information to be shared with her—and it’s a bad feeling. The blind ignorance. The shock. The feeling of being second-best—of somehow not being good enough. It’s just…a bad feeling.

So for everyone who may be remembering and/or feeling any of those feelings tonight—
For whatever reason—
I offer prayers for peace and comfort right now.
And for everyone who is in any type of relationship—
For however long—
I offer prayers for honesty and respect;
for ears to hear and hearts to listen; and
for healthy wisdom and endurance to do the hard work of love—
wherever that work may lead.
Amen.