Roller Coasters

It was slow yesterday.  I wish that I knew what each day at Adama held in store for us. Even as a child I never liked roller coasters.  I remember getting off one at the St Nick’s Annual Fair and my brother having to win me a stuffed animal to stop my tears. For my children, Papi was the one who was in charge of visits to amusement parks. They talked me into Magic Mountain once, and got me on a roller coaster that went backwards.  I was sick for three days.  I struck up a conversation with an old school mate last year.  In one message he claims to think about me every day.  Then I don’t hear from him for weeks. Like me or don’t, pay attention to me or don’t, want to see me or don’t.  But don’t ask me to take a roller coaster ride with you. Not the literal kind, nor the figurative emotional kind.  I had a boyfriend who always kept me guessing.  When I got myself off of that roller coaster, suddenly he couldn’t live without me, loved me more than any woman he had ever loved including his ex-wife, and begged me to tell him what he could do. But I was done.  After him, I have tried to make a point of being intentional about letting those I love know it. There are too many ups and downs that are uncontrollable.  I have no idea whether we will serve 20 people today, or 200.  But I want love to be a given.