Up until now the recession has only been something that I’ve heard about on tv, but that really hasn’t affected me much personally.
I went to coffee tonight with my friends and I got back a little earlier than I normally do. I walked into a dark house and found Jeff in our room by himself, with his arms over his face. He’s crumbling. He’s not crying, but I can tell that inside he’s lost his spark; his Jefflike extreme faith and confidence. I tried to talk, but he doesn’t want to talk. It’s ok. He doesn’t need to talk. I keep the checkbook and pay the bills and I know. I know how many more weeks we can go like this before the bottom is reached — and I can count them on one hand. It’s been tight before because he’s worked on commission in the financial world for 5 years now, but Jeff is always fine and upbeat and positive. He’s not right now and that scares me. He’s always been my rock. He can’t be that right now. Suddenly everything around me seems very temporary, like it could all go up in a puff of smoke and the world would keep on turning. The world, this economy could eat up my house and the life that my son knows and keep on spinning.
I can’t talk to Jeff because he doesn’t need any worry right now. So, I talk to Jesus. I pray for the right people to come into Jeff’s life. I know they are there. I pray for his missing confidence and his broken ego. I pray for the right words to say. I thank God for the time I’ve had at home with my son and pray for everything to be fixed so I don’t have to think about leaving him to go back to teaching full time. I pray for him to take my fear and worry because I know in my heart that holding onto those things and dwelling on them does no good. I pray for restful sleep because I know that tomorrow is another day that I’ll need to wake up yet again and be strong. But right now–just for a few minutes–I’ll let myself cry.