Fight or Flight

KCU Chapel is Tuesday and Thursday mornings at 9:30.
I go to sit with my soccer family, to set a good example,
so I know what they are talking about if they discuss what is said
and most importantly, to have the experience of worshipping with them.
I have struggled to get there this semester for a variety of reasons.
This morning I made it, a few minutes early.
I sat down and pulled my phone from my purse to make sure it was silenced.

I sensed her presence before she spoke and when I looked up she asked;
"Is anyone sitting next to you?"
"No"
"is it okay of I sit there?"
"You are more than welcome to."

I took in her neatly coifed hair, skirt and blouse and quiet demeanor, judging her to be in her early 40's and either a perspective student's mom 
or a campus visitor and felt it only fair to warn her which section she was in. 

"A soccer boy may come and sit next to you but they are a good group."

This is not her,
but it gives you an idea.
Cute, classy, "suitable".

My first clue that she was neither was her next sentence.

"I usually sit in the balcony, but they have closed it"
and followed with her name,
to which I replied;
"Donnette Bondurant" 
with no other explanation,
a step in healing and learning to be me,
as I reached to shake the hand she offered.

A pregnant pause followed.
She was searching her memory.
I was not prepared for what came next.

"Your husband used to work here..."
"Yes, yes he did."
"He left quite a legacy."
"Yes, he did."
"I used to hear him speak at welcome weekend stuff..."

As she talked about taking a computer class-
because "everything is done on computers now",
about the years she spent homeschooling her daughter
and her volunteer work
I did not want to make her uncomfortable.

So I smiled and nodded my head, 
made appropriate remarks, (I hope)
while my skin began to crawl,
and I ignored the lump in my throat,
along with the rock in my chest that was growing heavier.

A young man with the visiting band opened our service with a song.
The band took the stage, sang a "nonsense" song, followed by a current worship song, then one of their own songs. 
The fourth song was one we sang at Bill's funeral
and my eyes started leaking as I silently acknowledged "it".

90% of the time, or more,
I attend Chapel and it is simply me going to Chapel.
No big deal.

But sometimes as I stand there,
I am smack dab in the middle of Bill's calling hours and funeral.
This was one of those mornings.

As I stood singing, 
with the strong desire to choose flight over fight 
I prayed.

After service she looked at me and smiled,
said it was nice to meet me,
I responded in kind,
added that I hoped her class went well
and we both went on with our day.

Fight...
or flight?
It is often a gamble.
Depends on the day.
Depends on what is at stake.
Neither is the right answer all the time.
Today I fought the desire to flee and won the battle.

My strength, 
today and every day, 
comes from the One who has won the war.
Christ alone,
the Cornerstone of everything my life is built on.

This is not the band, but it is "the song".