I know I said I was planning on dropping the bomb tonight. I had every intention to. I met with an acquaintance this evening – someone I knew from college but never really got to know – and we got into a two-hour long conversation on theology. I got home around 9:30, when my mom usually goes to bed, and I knew I needed to bring it up. I felt God prodding me to bring it up. Just mention it. Lead into it. Something. So much has happened today that I know now, without a doubt, that he wants me to tell her before Saturday. She was even in a good mood.
I just couldn’t.
I feel so weak. I don’t want this to be something that keeps me up at night or makes me anxious all the time. I know my Father doesn’t want me to lie about it. I don’t intend to keep putting this off, either, so at this time tomorrow, if it’s His will, I should have some kind of news to share with you.
On a brighter note, I wore my scrubs to work today (turned out to be a smart choice) and when we went outside to play for a few minutes after nap time, I asked one of the girls what was on my shirt. I was wearing scrubs with butterflies on them and the cross we were all given at Mass, and one little girl said, “Butterflies and Jesus.”
Go ahead and smile. You know you want to.