"If I keep on like this, I'll break."

I was way too busy. I enjoyed it all, though! Among other things: giving Spanish lessons, piano lessons, being the church pianist, speaking at ladies' meetings and retreats...while running our house, which included things like baking a lot of our bread, making my own yogurt, pasteurizing our milk, and cooking without all the convenience foods available in the biggest cities or in countries like the U.S. (About all you could get canned back then - in Shell- was tuna, tomato paste, and evaporated and sweetened condensed milk. No frozen vegetables, and only one kind of bread, little round rolls. No pizzerias or supermarkets.) But I love cooking, and experimenting in the kitchen, and had lived in this country long enough to be able to adapt recipes to what was available. I also (as did many in the missionary community) sewed quite a bit, making not only clothes but also gifts for the various children's birthday parties that were the "highlights" of the kids' "social" lives! (A favorite manipulating device was, "I won't invite you to my birthday party...")     And then there was the hospitality. When someone came down from Quito on mission business, a sign-up sheet would be put up, where one could offer to feed whoever was coming a meal. Besides that, we had friends and neighbors over for meals.

Looking back, I wonder how in the world I ever managed to do so much! Of course, I was a lot younger! But it caught up with me. Other factors were present (which I'll get to in another post), but the over-busy-ness apparently was the catalyst. I remember standing in the kitchen after lunch one day and thinking, "If I keep on like this, I'll break." I went out and walked for a long time, something which always helped.
I did try to cut back some on activities. But in a bee-hive like Shell, it was hard.

Then came a week where I had people over for meals 8 times in 7 days! (Crazy!) Then we were going to go away for a night or two for our anniversary, and my mother-in-law showed up at our front door! She had asked about coming, and we sent the message to come down later, as we were going to be away, but she didn't get it. She stayed a couple weeks, and although we got along well, it was one more strain. With all the other things I had to do...

I collapsed.

I had almost finished making supper one night, and suddenly I couldn't function. It wasn't dramatic. Everything inside me just slowed to a crawl. I could hardly talk. The next couple weeks I spent mainly laying down in the apartment next door, which was empty at the time. (There was a connecting doorway between it and ours.) Our front door remained shut...which meant to others that I was either not at home or  unavailable. Sometimes I would sit and listen to music and cry and cry.

Germán took over for me in a lot of ways for a while. I would make meals (if you could call them that) while the kids were in school, but then he'd supervise the supper hour. Various friends in the community sent over meals, too, which was wonderful. Most of them sent enough food to feed us for 2 or 3 days at a time!

I read a lot, and just rested.  And then, very soon after, JESUS came. Although I didn't actually see Him with my physical eyes, I could have told you where He was standing when He was with me. Sometimes at the left side of the bed, sometimes at the right, sometimes at the foot.

Not understanding what was going on inside me, someone said, "Pull yourself together!" But in order to do that, one has to have something of substance on which to stand while pulling...and a reserve of strength from which to draw. I had no strength left; my reserve was empty.

I couldn't "pull myself together". Someone Else would have to do that for me...and carry me in His arms until I could walk on my own again.
************************************************************************************************(In my next posts I'll share more about the days when HE carried me, and show you some more poetry.)