This word keeps rearing it’s ugly head and when I think about my month of November the word speaks to me in all caps- OVERBOOKED.
I knew November would be a humdinger of a month.
It started with a fundraiser I had volunteered to plan. Yes, leave it to me to throw my hat in the ring. So I planned it for November 12th. This included everything from the invitations, the location, to the program. I’d been planning this since May.
It was important. A new campaign concept that I hoped would take off and would prove itself in funds and new friends for the organization.
The kicker was, seven days later was the largest event of my professional year, that I organize. Except 15,000 people would fill the stadium at SPIRIT Fest.
Oh, and there will be two stages and 16 bands to orchestrate plus a few dozen vendors.
This wasn’t my first rodeo and you’d think it’d get easier. But no. This was a huge commitment. 25+ hours in two days.
In between these two events, of course I taught classes and worked out right up to days before SPIRIT Fest and my body began to rebel. What, me prepare by resting up? No way!
I was fading fast and no amount of Hall’s Lozenges, Benadryl or Nyquil was making it any better. All I could do was carry on.
The big day came. SPIRIT Fest was here and it was like what I imagine having a baby might be like. Well, maybe.
The weather was nice and the stadium filled to a record crowd. My body ached with a slight fever. As the day went on my voice peaked in and out screeching over the walkie talkie sounding more like an adolescent in puberty.
Come 9:00PM my voice was gone. My throat felt like it was the parched earth of Texas after five years of draught.
My body had given up. The towel was thrown in.
My flu like symptoms lasted twelve dreary days.
And just like that Deuteronomy 2:3 hit me in the head. I realized I had been circling the mountain for what felt like years. In that moment I realized it was time for me to turn north.
My north meant stopping. Stopping to rest. My body forced me to. Maybe consider preparing next time. Maybe consider the cost.
This is not the first time God’s tried to get this message across to me. It might not be the second or third time but I hope this is the last.
I’m really grateful that God is patient with me. He must shake his head from time to time or at least has a good laugh when it comes to me. But He loves me anyway despite my rock hard headed-ness.
God’s love is the sweetest gift of all and it’s new everyday.