Who is your everyone?

The other day, I went to a Bible study at a church that I'm considering attending. We began studying the passage from Mark 1 when Jesus is experiencing a wave of popularity as people watch him miraculously heal and cast out demons. One morning, Jesus takes time away from the crowds of followers to spend some time by himself in a "solitary place". Before long, Peter and the disciples search for him. When they find him, they encourage him to go back to the crowd. "Everyone is looking for you!", they exclaim.

During our discussion, I began to think about how uncomfortable I am with solitude. As we discussed various spiritual habits, I quickly identified taking time to be alone with God as an area of particular struggle for me.

As we began to apply the lesson to our own lives, the facilitator of the Bible study posed a question, "The disciples tell Jesus, 'Everyone is looking for you!' Who is your everyone?" I considered for a moment before realizing: I have been in San Diego for exactly two weeks. No one apart from my roommate even knows I'm here. No one is looking for me.

I like to be around people. Even when I'm doing solitary things like reading or studying, it is a comfort for me to have someone in my vicinity. If I were Jesus, instead of enjoying the temporary quiet, I would probably be tempted to rush headlong into the crowd and shout, "Here I am!" (Ok, maybe I wouldn't shout. But I might sidle up to Peter and James and say, "How about a game of Balderdash?")

God's timing is funny. When I was feeling discontent with my temporary phase of solitude, he reminded me of the importance of taking time away from "everyone" and everything to be near him. He reminded me that what I perceived as loneliness could be his gift.

New Leaves

Whenever I move, ideas start popping into my head about ways that I can start anew in a new locale. Shed habits I don't like, change things about myself.

I will exercise more, I'll eat better, I'll be more outgoing. I'll pray more. I'll be more organized. I won't get lost. I won't lose things.

And while no matter how I scheme, the me that I can't help being always shows up (like when my first solo trip to the beach was almost ruined when I dropped my apartment keys somewhere in the sand. I'm still beaming thank yous to whichever benevolent stranger turned them in to the lifeguard office.)

But I'm realizing that doesn't mean that change isn't happening, that I'm not growing. But the growth doesn't happen in the transition; it happens in the day in and day out of living in a place. I can look back at each community I've joined, and see the ways I've grown as I've been privileged to know and be known. To get to know people, souls, to understand a little bit of who they are, what struggles they face, what battles they have won, and those they continue to fight. Sharing the benefits of their victories and the encouragement that comes from living this crazy life together.

Word Play

An amazing concept. This makes me want to make movies. (Credit for this youtube discovery goes to mom).

Waiting

I find myself newly installed in my apartment in San Diego. With my wonderful moving/encouragement team back to their respective lives, what felt more like vacation has taken a very definite turn for reality. And I have seven days before I begin school.

So what is a girl with no (proximal) friends, a to-do list that will not last the day much less the week, and a bunch of free time to do?

The answer seemed clear: start a blog.

Before you get too excited, here are a few caveats:

1. I claim the right not to update. This could be my last post.
2. I assert my right to be completely uninteresting. In the event that I do continue, you might wish this was my last post.
3. Although blogger is a free service, a phrase which here means, I don't have to pay a dime to pour out my insights into cyberspace, that doesn't mean that it is free for you to read my blog. Payment is accepted in the form of words of encouragement, visits, and updates about your own lives (via whatever medium you prefer, email, snail mail, phone calls, text messages, carrier pigeon, etc.)

Last night I was feeling rather overwhelmed at the prospect of carving out a new life in a new town . . . yet again. I was wishing I could just dive in and start school, instead of waiting a week for things to get rolling. But then I started thinking about how many people I know would love a week to explore, to make music, to read, to write, and to rest. In some ways, I still wish I could gift it to you, but since I seem to be stuck with it, I'll do my best to use it well.