My friend Marie and I just got to iChat- talking for a while about everything and nothing. Seeing her face. Talking with the illusion that I’m not 300 miles farther away than the last time I saw her face. It was fresh water to a thirsty little heart.
I know it’s only been four days, but for an extrovert who gains momentum, strength, and life from her people, apparently it doesn’t take long to feel the affects of not having “people”. The dryness. The empty.
Mom and I talked on the phone. Molly and I talked for a while. Nan texted. Jenn called. Many emailed. Sweet Katie B sent me a card in the MAIL. I even had 2 Nashville friends make plans for next week. With me, obviously. 🙂 And yesterday I got to babysit Bennett for Kevin and Mandy. All long drinks of the fresh water that I need to be me.
I guess I didn’t realize how much I needed it. I don’t expect to dry up this quickly. But after just a few minutes of talking with Marie, and multi-readings of Hebrews 11, I felt stiff things in me break apart. Like the softness returning to a rigid sponge when it’s held under a running faucet.
It’s to be expected. I know that. I know that at some point in the future, Nashville will refresh me. Somebody (or somebodies) here will get me. They will join the vagabond group that are my people. And I will feel like me here. Right now, I don’t. I mean, hilarious stuff happens here and I’m happy, but at the core, in my knower, I’m not brave enough to be me. In fact, I was scared to email a mutual friend tonight to see if she wanted to meet for lunch next week because I was worried that I wasn’t cute enough.
Not cute enough? It’s been around 10 years since that thought stopped me from doing anything. In fact, I’m pretty confident of my cute factor. In Georgia, at least.
But the vibrancy that flowers gain from sun and water is the vibrancy I lack today. The confidence that God worked long and hard to build in me is hiding behind some wall that says Annie and Nashville aren’t a good fit.
I get to go home tomorrow. Thank God for people wanting to get hitched. And wanting me there to see it. And I’m going to drink it in. I’m going to sit back and laugh at stories that have happened since I left…. all of a week ago. I’m going hug the babies that I love and smell them deep. I’m going to sit on the couch real close to my dad. I’m going to appreciate every second that I spend with a family member or friend who has lived real life with me- and chooses me anyways.
I’m going to wish I got to stay there. That this was just some weird dream, like in It’s A Wonderful Life, where I look to the sky and scream something along the lines of “I realize how great I had it. Can I have it back now?”
But on Saturday night I will point north again. And probably weep my way over the Georgia/Tennessee border. Which is honestly counter productive to release that much water. But I’m weeping now as I write because I feel that loss already. The loss the comes after the gain of a weekend I have yet to live.
I don’t have a great closer. It should be something about how fresh water is all around or something of that nature, some great takeaway for you, the reader, that points you to God and makes you give me a blog-pat on the back for being so spiritual.
This is all I’ve got- I’m heartbroken and I miss my life at home so badly it physically hurts. But somehow, God will be enough for me. I don’t know what that will look like or feel like. I have no idea how. I truly don’t. But His promises are sure, even when my heart is so sad and my keyboard soaked.