China Patterns and Potlucks

I started an incredibly depressing blog on Saturday night about the hopelessness of goodbyes that might mean forever, and the bittersweet release of relationships never fully formed, but I scrapped it after I never got to finish. So here is the paraphrase version: Emily left. How do I encompass her hugs, her laugh, and her everything else without losing my strongly grasped and finally found sanity? Impossible. Others left too, and a few are yet to leave. But tomorrow is still a new day, and tomorrow I will rise above today.

Today. Today is June 1st. This day always catches me by surprise, and never fails to send me into a panic. I have always measured years June to June, rather than January to December or any other way that might actually make sense. Not only did it used to represent the end of school and the beginning of a new summer, but June also includes the dreaded day: my birthday. Sixteen more days and I won't be this glorious in-between age any longer. Somehow, 21 makes adulthood more official. I will be legal to do anything and everything in any country in the world, and it's as if my perspective will need to change all over again. June scares me.

Last night was Six in the Mix, a get-together of all six youth churches with over 600 people and a mean barbeque. It meant a lot as far as the number of new Christians goes, and people who have never been out before, but for me it was a life-change moment. I have had very few of those that I can remember, and this one was especially good. There, in that darkened room in White Rock, I was able to finally give my heart up to God without resistance. And realizing that my heart is ultimately His and no one else's is helping me more than I thought possible in the quest to be "fine" again.

Today I sit here, almost a year after I "should" have been married, in another life, and I'm not any closer to choosing bridesmaid colours or selecting china patterns than I was this time last year, or the year before that or the year before that. I feel hopeless and desperate and lost. Not hopeless that I'll never find anyone, not desperate to be with someone, and not lost without someone else in my life to hold my hand; hopeless that he could ever have what I need or be able to put up with my crap, desperate to find someone before I'm shriveled and old and unable to have children, and lost as to where that empty space in my heart should be directed at this time. Yes, God may have taken my heart captive, but there's still that small part of me that I don't think can be filled except by a forever partner. Crazy? Quite possibly.

So, welcome to my thoughts. This is everything tossing and turning and brewing and burning within me right now, so I thought I'd share...and it was an excellent exercise in determining exactly how I do feel. Putting thoughts into words always helps. And in case you're still wondering where the potlucks come in, don't worry, they don't. That's the point.