—Michael W. Smith, "Place in This World"
Community Group has wrapped and my apartment is quiet again. Twelve of us tonight, larger than we've been in some time. Partially my doing: decided to call Blanche this afternoon and invite her. She'd talked about coming a few weeks back, and Jennifer mentioned that she was more and more disconnected and hurting. Blanche said I must have read her mind (she was thinking about coming tonight when I called); I chuckled a little inside.
We made lists of twenty things we love and shared them. Largely, I only touched the surface. I long to be deeper with them, but something holds me back, something that feels hurt and alone. They are dear, yet there is distance. I fear they cannot know me as I am.
Aside from Blanche, chose to reach out to a couple of others I knew were hurting: Jeremy, whose engagement was recently broken, and Vicki in San Francisco, whose deep pain was so very evident to me (though she never mentioned it). My direction seems almost random– simply trying to respond to what is revealed to me, with no order, rhyme, or reason of my own. It is a wild course, and my senses are unpredictable, possibly unreliable. Yet I want to learn to be faithful, to use my gifts and become whoever He is making me.
The reaching out has felt good and right, yet I am lonely. But I know I am not alone.