A panic attack can do more than shake you up, and it doesn’t even have to be your own. The call came near midnight. I was sound asleep when the phone rang. That unearthly buzz and blue glow that comes when you’ve turned off the sound and all you get is the vibration on the nightstand.
“What am I supposed to do?” I knew I wouldn’t recognized the voice long before I heard the words. A split second later, I’m wide awake, answering that question with, “What happened?” A total stranger calling at that hour of the night, meant someone needed help, whether I was the intended recipient of the call or not. I was awake.
Sleep didn’t follow the phone call, although there was nothing really wrong and I was able to calm down the caller rather quickly considering the state of her voice in that first moment. She calmed and got off the phone to do whatever it is young women have to do at midnight. I put the phone on the table and left it to continue charging. With cool breezes from the window and the soft sound of birds in the distance, a train, and traffic droning on the highway several miles away, I lie there thinking random thoughts until I saw the first light of day drifting colors across the sky. I would have to wake up shortly and do whatever it was I’d had on my list, the one I wasn’t ready to look at yet.
Rain splattered against the window, shortly before five, and the night faded into day. My work began shortly after with a client text, expectations, and life would create more demands. I could already hear two young boys messing in the kitchen, probably making their own breakfast. I was pretty sure they needed help. I slipped out of bed, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt until I could spare the time to take a shower.
The message didn’t change. Every phone call, all day long brought back the question: What am I supposed to do?
Even when I called a friend to bounce a plan of attack for a new marketing campaign against him, the same question came back, “You need to figure out “What am I supposed to do?”
But there was more…
I had issues to discuss and each issue needed a plan of attack, but what he said made an impact on my message and I sat back to think about the process he’d revealed through that one small question: What am I supposed to do?
1 – The message needed to be shared. I’d been given a message that really did need to be shared, but my part in sharing it, wasn’t necessarily to write the blog post, broadcast the social media, or share the twitter feed. The message would be given at the right time, at the right place, and in the right group of people, if I just continued doing what I needed to do. My message, my part of the message, wasn’t the message itself.
2 – My purpose was not to share the message. I’d been put in a place where I couldn’t readily share the message with anyone of any importance, and if I did share the message, there were many who would scoff at the message. My purpose was to HAVE the message, not to share it. My purpose, my part of this process, wasn’t about the message.
3 – What am I supposed to do? My message is there for anyone to read it, and my purpose is clearly to be the woman I’m intended to be, ready and available to do whatever needs to be done. I’m supposed to be READY. I must be prepared for whatever job I’m set to do and ready to stand in the gap to make a difference.
Make a difference.
I’ve carried those three words for several years, and my goal is to ‘make a difference’ every single day. Whether it’s just a kind word, a loving response, a gentle reminder, or a raised voice in victory against evil, my goal for every single day is to make a difference in the world around me.
What is your daily goal? What are you supposed to do?
Perhaps I could help you figure that out?