Life is crazy - it can be dammed up and unchanging for months, years even. And then, overnight the dam bursts and you find yourself trying to tread water in a sea of change.
We've been busy here in North Carolina, just as all of you have. This week our Bible study was on Wednesday night (as opposed to the normal Tuesday night) - along with a pool party and some good food. I've been tapped to teach next week's lesson, which I pray will be well. I also have an article for Tyndale due Monday. Busy, but no big deal - the kids sleep longer than I do, after all. Then yesterday before lunch it happened. The dam cracked and burst with the ringing of a phone.
"May I please speak to Scott Lyons?"
"This is he," I answered.
It was the local community college asking if I would teach a couple of writing classes this semester (scary and funny all at once, huh?) - probably the following semesters as well. Classes start today. I wouldn't be able to start, at the earliest, until Monday. One class is during the lunch hour, which I would have to arrange childcare for about an hour and a half on M, W, and F. The other class is M and W evenings.
I hung up the phone and it crossed my mind to say nothing to Laura about it and tell the community college No. That's a typical response from me - I've never done it, but I'm tempted to time and again. Change is hard - especially change that is going to complicate my life. But the job would be a foot in the door, it would be good experience, and it would be extra cash. All positive things. It would be busy. It would be hard. But I'm more afraid of what might happen if I passed up opportunities such as these that are dropped in my lap.
As I left for my dentist appointment, I got the mail. At the bottom of the pile was a packet of more freelance work. I'm telling you, when the dam breaks, it breaks.
I have to run by the community college this afternoon and meet with the lady who called yesterday. I'll find out more information then. Anyway, here it goes.
Sometimes I'm simply swept over by the sheer gaiety of life.
(I know, Jamie, I said dam.)