Posted by quequel on September 21, 2003 at 16:14:53:
I guess I was pretty spoiled, having so many friends who accepted and loved me, and who interested me. Since I moved to Tulsa, I’ve had to learn all over again how to find friends. Sure, I smile at people, but what do I say, other than, “Great shirt,” “Sure is cold today,” “Hi…” I’d love to start a conversation with something like, “How about those Endlers?” or “Hey, I heard Dave Matthews say, ‘God’s not a performing seal.’ Wanna play poetry tag?” Obviously, most people would think, rightly, that I was a bit strange. I was and still am. So I’m not alternative enough for the interesting people to talk to me, and I’m not normal enough for the mini-van types to talk to me for more than a minute or two. And I’m not skilled enough to start conversations on my own. My job is to smile, and you’re supposed to talk until I think of something to say. Obviously, when that happens, I can carry the conversation, singlehandedly, until next week (Gee, like right now).
Anyhoo, I’ve found a couple of people who like strange things like poetry and God and doing the can-can in a desk chair while singing Sinatra. (God does bless me!) But this whole escapade—I even feel like a stranger sometimes with my own family—along with the longing for connection that has been expressed by people I figured had all the friends in the world, has made me ponder.
When God made us, He made us in His image. Obviously, there are billions of people out there, but the ones we connect with are those few who share some similarity of thought with us. He did the same thing. He made us in His image, so we’d connect with Him. I think this longing to connect is part of His make-up as well. We want so badly to be understood, to be known. We write, draw, chat on-line, communicate constantly somehow, so that somewhere someone will see the parts of us we expose and say, “I get it.” We’re not just exhibitionists, we’re searchers, pasting internal pictures of ourselves on the walls of public toilets so some unknown stranger will identify with us. It’s a tiny, personal scale of that probe we sent out with the recordings on it so that aliens would find earth.
But He didn’t put us here just to find each other. He put us here to find Him. He made Eve after he made Adam and saw that Adam still longed for another human, even though he had God to commune with. (Of course, God’s omniscient, so He knew that was going to happen, but I think He wanted Adam, not to spend his life chasing another human, but to spend his life in companionship with God.) So then they had three, and Adam chose between the two, and I think God has ever since been feeling that loss. He misses us. He hurts when we cry for companionship and He’s right there. He obviously understands, because He still made Eve--and very nicely, too--but over and over He’s told us that we’re His bride, His true love, His light.
So, even though the loneliness is still there, and sometimes overwhelming, I’m grateful for it. Because the One who gave me the need understands and shares it. And it’s so cool how He throws a giggle my way when I feel the most alone. He’s a pretty clever God.