You know that feeling when your stomach just drops; when you realize the pending emptiness life is about to bring you? It’s like butterflies in your stomach, but instead of that warm feeling, it’s concave and sinking. There should be a word for that…reverse butterflies, maybe?
I shouldn’t be thinking about this. I should be thinking about graduating college and how my computer crashed and how I’m behind on assignments, yet when I drove to a coffee shop today, I got those…reverse butterflies.
This summer, my few friends from college will be either gone forever, or travelling for months at a time. I remember. One friend will be coming back to me. Back to my town. Not travelling for once, thank God. I have a feeling I will rely on that fact all summer long. Wait. Maybe another will be in town. I’m not sure though, so that thought doesn’t do much for me. I drive.
The summer is empty.
It tends to be, for me at least. Suddenly, I can’t keep pretending that all those people around me at school actually mean anything to me. Nothing against them. I don’t know them. But I don’t want them, I want my people. Those people who mean everything to me. Those people who make me feel like I’m not going at this alone.
What doesn’t bother me enough about that line of thinking is that I forget that God is with me and that’s all that matters. Why don’t I think to care about that? Do I have to come to the end of all my relationships for that to become a reality to me? I don’t want it to take something that drastic… but I think I act like I do.
And who knows, maybe I’ll meet a large group of people who take me in and let me appreciate their time and company. Maybe that’s what really awaits me this summer.
With a dry gulp and a shiver down my back– And what if it’s not?
WHAT WILL YOU DO THEN, EQUALLY LOST?
I feel how I am being deceived sometimes. Satan is eager to pick at those parts of us that are so vulnerable. The weight I place on my relationships is a vulnerability. Even more so is my thought following that– “well, then I shouldn’t value my relationships as much as I do. I shouldn’t care to make new friends and put effort into a relationship for it to drag me into vulnerability” (aka a steady depressive inner conversation that leads me to crying in my car on an August night, where my only hope is that I will be returning to school in the fall…then things will be better [except that’s not the case this year, as I’m finishing university]…what’s your hope then, Equally Lost? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO). And I know that this button Satan pushes as he drives me into isolation is what keeps me from a church community. The idea that I should be in community. It sounds wonderful to me, but it also means that I’ll have to be more open with them than I’ve been with people I’m in relationship now–because that’s what community means in the church and I’m afraid to admit how I’ve buried myself so deeply in things I never thought I’d be doing. Ever. ‘I’m not that kind of person. I mean, I definitely can’t let other people see me differently.’
And I sleep through church service after church service. Isolation.
But but God wins in the end! I know that!
Why isn’t He winning with me?
Why don’t I let Him?
Why do people say “let”?
“Let” is the most difficult thing.
“Let” means I have to do something. I have to fix it. I have to admit to it. I have to tell someone else. I have to confess it. I have to address that which I am so good at hiding. What makes me cry listening to that song that says God isn’t ashamed of me because I’ve been washed by His blood. Why aren’t You ashamed??
This conversation isn’t over.