Eleven hundred dozen cookies. Half the number we have historically needed, and yet still enough to make be shun sugar until the holidays. This was one of those rare occasions when I did not so much mind my sinus problems because the smell of sugar would have been overwhelming.
By a cruel twist of fate, the last time I served as the Cookie Monster, I had a tummy bug the first 2 days of the weekend and was quite literally sick to my stomach from the smell of sugar. I curled up into a little ball with my head on the table and let my Angels take over. This time I may not have been sick to my stomach, but it could be argued that I was a little sick in the head.
Before team formation formally began, our fearless team leader contacted me to ask how many dozens I thought each team member should contribute. After computing the numbers I was given, I gave her my suggestion. When we officially began team formation, a much more experienced veteran Kairos volunteer suggested that the number I can come up with was too excessive and recommended a smaller requirement. OK, I thought, this isn't exactly her first rodeo and she knows what she's doing, so let's go with it.
I should have stuck to my guns. Even though I watched her work the numbers, they didn't seem to add up to me, but then, I've never been particularly stellar at math so I wasn't inclined to argue. I should have argued. When it came down to the day, and the final count was in, we were almost 100 dozen short of the number needed. Can you say double, triple, quadruple count? No matter who counted or how, the number was always short. And I had less than 24 hours to come up with, get approval for, and carry out a plan of action before we needed to hand out cookies to the community on the compound.
Did I mention that we discovered this little snag during lock-down and count, so I couldn't get to our team leader for almost an hour? By then, I had already talked with another teammate who had served in this capacity before and whom I thought might have some advice. We really only had 2 options: 1- break the dozens down and redistribute, or 2- there were a couple of women on the team whose husbands were on a men's team the following weekend. They were certain their husbands would be willing to contribute the cookies they had already collected as long as we could replace them once home. The accompanying glitch with this possibility was getting them to Dayton from Columbus and then into the prison since cookies were no longer on our gate pass.
When I finally got to talk with our team leader, she chose to go with option 1. Unfortunately, this did not sit well with others who then decided to set aside the simplest option and take the most complicated. I had so many people telling me how to handle this ordeal that I thought my head might explode if anyone else tried to force my brain to process any additional information.
By the time the team was preparing to leave the prison for the night, I was fried ~ and I couldn't contain the tears any longer. The dam broke, and that was all she wrote. I called Joshua after our debriefing and cried on his shoulder over the phone. Even at almost 10pm, his first response was, "What can I do to help you?" Of course, at that point, very little could be done. When I finally hung up, I took a Benedryl and 2 sleeping pills and prayed for rest.
Thus, it was decided to get the cookies from Columbus to Dayton, and the gate pass was taken care of. I felt more than a twinge of guilt knowing that these ladies couldn't contact their husbands until we were out of the prison, around 830pm, and then they would still have to round up the goods and deliver them. It was going on 1230 by the time they got to Dayton, and they still had to drive back home. God bless loving husbands.
There were other complications with the cookies that weekend, as well. Because we didn't have the freedom to move around on the compound, for the sake of ease, we needed to pre-count before we took the cookies to other locations. It didn't matter who counted how many times, the count seemed to be short every time. Yeah, not only was our overall count short, every immediate need count seemed to be short, too.
I don't see why our team leader didn't fire me. I was obviously woefully screwing up this job, could never seem to get a grip on it this time around. A plethora of factors contributed to my seeming lack of competence, not the least of which being exhaustion, but I have to believe a big part of our struggle ~ in my area of service and all of the others ~ was due largely to Satan being pissed that God's work was happening at DCI. Nothing like serving as the hands and feet of Christ to invite some serious attack from the evil one.
Attack he did. I am embarrassed to confess that I didn't handle the situation very gracefully ~ but then, that has never been my forte. I came through this trial beaten and broken, humbled as only God can encourage, yet knowing that He had it in His hands all along. In short, Satan threw me a few curve balls, and I struck-out. Thankfully, I have a merciful umpire calling the plays.
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