hey, jealousy

thankfully not often, but sometimes, sometimes i get a clutch of fear in my heart that i see all my dear single girl friends as competitors for the same scant few Jesus-loving men i see around me. an eternal musical chairs for the hearts of just a few too few good men. sometimes i can look around me at church or at a party and think to myself 'he's still single, and he's cute, so that means that there must be a few more like him out there somewhere'. and then do a quick scan of the single, beautiful, witty, Jesus-loving girls around me and i see that the lucky chap is outnumbered about 8 to 1. like shooting fish in a barrel for these guys!

it's funny to me that this resonates almost completely as a supply and demand conundrum. it's not that i'm pining for any boy in particular at the moment, or that i'm jealous of any particular girl or pairing. it's more like a 'too many of us, too few of them' panic that sets in a little deeper each time a giddy girl friend regales a date invitation. and is it just me or does it seem to come in waves? 3 more single girls at once BAMBAMBAM dating all of a sudden.

very much like high school when you knew that there was only a small set of desireable prom dates on whom to set your meager hope. waiting to be asked. crickets chirp.

i don't know about you, but these episodes tend to make me stand in front of the mirror wondering whether it really is just the extra 20 pounds or so? the fact that i am 30 years old and still don't know how to put on eyeliner properly? am i too aserbic? can i become more feminine? would that help? simply put: i have to wonder whether it's something wrong with me. with the way i look, with my personality, with my heart. and whether i can correct the problem before i end up missing prom and going to the movies with my little sister. oh wait. she's married.

so yeah. jealousy. natalie merchant sang a terrific song about it.

yesterday i was out on a kayak, alone, on lake michigan and i prayed that Jesus would - i don't know what. would keep me from feeling competitive with my single friends. would gaurd me from the self-hate that roils around when the panic sets in. that panic would not unravel into jealousy or anger.

maybe it was the solitude of being out on the lake. sometimes when i'm indoors i feel like my prayers are bouncing of the ceiling and hitting me in the face. but in any case, the little begging prayers went up, and i saw them disappear like pink balloons into heaven. i looked at the bronzey glow of my strong arms and gave my paddle a swoosh through the water. the water, the gentle rocking of my boat, the sun, the wind in my hair. i felt completely safe, utterly happy, loved, protected, calm. like the whole damn lake was made just for me, for that moment, for that assurance. the little paniced girl wanted to put that into a bottle and wear it around her neck so she wouldn't forget. but i always do.