Chrystal was driving, I was in the front passenger seat, and
Shawna was in the back... talking about something she’d
been thinking about doing but why she couldn’t do it and how
she felt bad about not doing it but why it didn’t matter because
she could never do it anyway. On and on like that. Chrystal and
I looked ahead out the windshield, sipping our lattes and
listening, nodding in sympathy and genuine concern. When
we tried to press her on what her real hesitations were, she kept
talking and rationalizing and deflecting and defending until she
finally nearly snapped our heads back with a really unexpected,
highly exasperated, “Because I’m not READY!”
[road noise, the low hum of air coming from the A/C vents]“Because I’m SCARED!”Allow me to step back for a second and do a better job of
introducing Shawna to you. Because if all you knew about her
was what I’d just described, I’d be giving you the completely
wrong impression. My friend is a devoted wife of nearly twenty
years and a highly accomplished, highly intelligent mother of
three. Tremendously adept at managing a full household.
Dynamic, outspoken believer. Trains hard-core for marathons.
(I don’t even know how many of those things she’s run.) She’s