Through the fog

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. (1 Corinthians 13:12)

I remember an old set of Southwest Airlines commercials whose tagline was “Wanna get away?” The ads featured people who had gone through some type of dramatic blunder that they needed to escape from. In one example, a woman sneezed over a sand painting. In another, a man jumped in what he presumed to be a cab only to find out it was a getaway car. While I haven’t experienced anything quite so climactic, my 10-12 hour work days have me consistently feeling like I “wanna get away.”

I’ve nearly forgotten what it means to step outside on a weeknight – to see the sky and sun or even dig in my garden. If it weren’t for David and my kitties reminding me when it’s mealtime, I’d barely eat myself. Monday through Friday, my new routine is to work, eat, clean up, read the Bible with David, watch one hour of Amazon Prime, and then sleep hard until I get up and do it all over again. 

I wasn’t planning to take a vacation so soon into my new work tenure, but when I learned that my primary executive was taking a week off, I decided to follow suit. The timing was perfect for David and me to visit Puerto Rico for our second wedding anniversary. 

While the thought of a getaway may have been timely, my planning for our escape was far from my usual modus operandi. I didn’t organize much, which is hardly my style. I’m a planner. All day long, that’s what I do. I organize, coordinate, facilitate, and capture intense details for the five executives I support. I take care of all their meetings, calendars, and travel details. 

While my job title may be Executive Assistant, I now consider myself an administrative soldier. I dodge bullets masked as requests that keep my head spinning on a swivel, jumping through fiery hurdles to make the impossible possible at every turn. While no one may intend to rip me to shreds with their bombastic artillery, at the end of the day, I often feel battered, bruised, and mentally exhausted from trying to keep up with all the demands. There’s not much of me left at that point. 

I love my job and am incontrovertibly grateful to have it, but it’s one of the most intense roles I’ve ever held. I carry a lot of weight on my shoulders every day. As a result, doing things for myself has become secondary. Planning an 8-day anniversary trip normally would have been the result of serious mental gymnastics on my part. The truth is, I didn’t have it in me.

While I had booked David’s and my flights, arranged a rental car, and chosen two vacation spots for our weeklong stay, the rest of the trip was utterly uncoordinated. The night before we were set to travel, I still had to pack our food staples along with my clothing, toiletries, and meds, as well as prep instructions for our pet sitter, do laundry, make dinner, and pack lunches. 

Thankfully, David took over laundry duty, crafted our pet sitter’s guidance, made our lunches, and helped pack our food. I couldn’t have made it through without his help. As my 3:00 pm targeted end work time stretched into 5:30 pm, I rushed out to get my haircut – something I’d wanted to do for the past two weeks. After stepping foot inside the salon, I was turned away by the stylists who said they weren’t taking anyone else that day. As I returned home, I couldn’t help but feel disappointment at this news and frustration that I needed to return to work. 

Despite my self-imposed commitment to not be packing until midnight, my preparations continued until 11:45 pm. By then, I was exhausted. 

After waking at 5:00 am, I laid in bed until 5:40 and then rose to prepare to leave by 6:30 for our 8:37 am flight. Only then did I realize that I didn’t have our rental car information written down – sparking a moment of sheer panic. I had bundled the car with our flight but had no memory of what my confirmation number was – or even which agency I had rented from. Fearing that the information wasn’t on my phone, I began frantically searching my digital files to no avail. No matter where I looked, the reservation eluded me. 

Fifteen minutes and many prayers later, I found what I needed, embedded within my original flight receipt. Unfortunately, this search put us 15 minutes behind schedule. Despite my best efforts to rush the rest of my morning preparations, David and I left 10 minutes late. 

While rushing to the airport, I thought about all the ways my work has consumed me and prevented me from doing for myself what I do for others. I’m a detail-oriented person, but lately, my efforts have all been to help my execs and not enough for David and me. The stress I felt going into this trip could have been avoided had I put as much time into our preparations as I’ve been investing in my job. 

The truth is, I’m still finding the work-life balance that I desperately need. Something’s got to give before I do. 

As we drove to FL for our morning flight, the sun was just beginning to crest the horizon. Looking left as we crossed over the tidal marshes along our journey, I could see a thick fog wisping above the water. At my behest, David attempted to snatch a photo with his phone while commenting that it wouldn’t “read well.” I knew the fog would be hard to see in a photo, but I couldn’t help trying. 

It was then that I realized we were cutting it close to the bag drop off time plus we still had to park and take a bus back to the airport from the economy lot. “This is going to be tough,” I told David.

“Why don’t I drop you off and then go park?” David suggested. 

“That’s a fabulous idea,” I affirmed.

After exiting the vehicle, I rushed to the airline counter only to be greeted by a smiling gate agent. 

“Where’s the awesome husband?” he asked, commenting on my “I love my awesome husband” shirt. David and I begin wearing these shirts during our travels last January to show our affection for one another. People consistently smile when they see them, and many tell us how much they love them. 

“He dropped me off so I could get our bags on the plane in time,” I responded. “He’ll be here soon.” 

“His reputation proceeds him, I see,” said the agent, whose name I later learned was Isaiah. 

“It does,” I confirmed. “He is awesome!” 

For the next 10 minutes, Isaiah listened as I told him the story of how David and I met. “That’s my new testimony,” I told Isaiah. “When you surrender to God, He can give you the desires of your heart.” 

Upon seeing David, Isaiah’s face burst into a smile. “Here’s the awesome husband,” he proclaimed while David flashed his matching “I love my awesome wife” shirt under his sweatshirt. We all laughed as we posed for a photo together to memorialize our encounter. 

“Thank you so much for your kindness,” I told Isaiah as we parted ways. 

“You guys made my day,” Isaiah quipped back. 

As we boarded our plane, I was struck by how my Heavenly Father had helped me in both large and small ways on the path to our escape. He heard my prayer when I needed help preparing for our trip. He showed me the car confirmation when I despaired at ever finding it. He helped David and me get to the airport with just enough time to have our bags loaded by a fellow believer who encouraged us as much as I hope we encouraged him. 

Although the devil continues to try to steal our joy, he can never take away our witness. We can’t always see our way through challenges, but God does. He will continue to help us if we ask Him to do so. Clearly, I need to ask Him more. 

If we will give all our pieces to our Creator, He will see us through the fog to the other side – to a place where He can use, guide, and lead us to fulfill His purpose for His glory. 

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. (1 (Corinthians 15:12)

May it be so, Lord Jesus. Show me Your way through the fog to a brighter day.