A storm inside . . .

For the second Sunday in a month, I bailed out of church after the second hymn--right before the passing of the peace. As I was standing in the pew, trying to sing - I could feel the panic setting in. The fear of going around saying good morning to everyone, shaking hands, sometimes hugging. For me, it should be called Passing out in peace. It's not that I don't like to meet and greet people, I do. But there are so many people milling about. Even in our little church, there seems to be so many people during this passing of the peace ritual that I can't breathe, can't move, can't think. I say good morning to everyone before church and after church when it isn't so rushed. Apparently my body goes on overload when there is so much human action in such a confined space. And it makes me sad because I wasn't able to stay for the sermon, the steeple dedication, the family meal. But I can't stand the thought of trying to talk to people and then breaking down in tears, which is what I do when stressed.

Must be why I prefer the company of nature.