Last night I had what I refer to as an “oopsie”
- Diminutive form of oops; Alternative spelling of oopsy.
A presumably ‘natural’ exclamation, only attested since 1933, possibly altered to (or from) whoops}
Ok, you get what I mean? Can I move on? Right, moving on.
I was part of an awesome gathering of people from my church and my pastor spoke about numerous things along the theme of Stop surviving, start living. The message was great and hit home in a bigger way than I’d expected, but when I walked home, I realised how bitter-sweet the entire situation is. I’m getting increasingly excited about being part of this church, about ‘plugging in’, about meeting new people, about attending events such as the Hillsong Conference in July or the Colour Conference next year…but then a teeny-weeny little voice starts out as a whisper in my head and soon turns into a shout – and I’m reminded that my mission to get a Work Visa isn’t over yet – I don’t have the stamp of approval from the German government. And that’s the point at which my spirit plummets to well below zero.
Unfortunately, as well, Mani’s the one who has to bear witness, over and over again, to sullen Carmen; to “ye of little faith” Carmen; and it creates a considerable strain on us. It pushes me to the point of not wanting to tell him the whole situation upsets me, and wanting to hide how I really feel; and it just makes him feel burdened – which is the last thing I want for him.
*sigh* I knew this whole process would be difficult – well, at least, I knew in my head it would be difficult – but now I feel it in my heart, and some days I lack the energy to deal with it to the point of wanting to lay down in the foetal position and never get up.
What utter nonsense – surely I’m stronger than this!