livin' on a prayer

once in a great while i can point back to a specific seemingly insignificant event that proceeded to shape the course of my life. a super bowl party two years ago was one of those events. i thought about it this weekend when i scraped myself off my couch of despair and slugged my way to a superbowl party hosted by some church friends. i needed to get off the couch and laugh for a while. but i left early in a twitch of exhaustion.

anyway, the party two years ago: The Boy had invited a small mishmash group of friends and co-conspiritors to his place for a superbowl party, but it was actually the kick off of an experiment that became my life for a season. people i met there, and in the intervening week of togetherness, have shaped and redirected and undergirded these last two years in ways i would have never imagined. the off-shoots of that experiment have gathered dear and much-loved friends into my life that i would not have otherwise met. and of course, the saga of The Boy had dragged me around for years and was brought to culmination through the 'community' experiment of being roommates and more than friends.

looking back on that superbowl party two years ago stirs up an irritating mix of volatile emotions. has God blessed me through these two years of listening and loving and crying and failing and loving some more? absolutely. do i experience a dispondent sense of loss and confusion about 'the point' of it, or where to go from here? yep, i do.

especially now that my lease is finally almost up. now that key friends from the community experiment are pulling anchor, and the questions again of 'where do i belong? where is my place? what is the point? my point?' start ringing in my ears like the aftershock of too-loud music.

then of course there is always that almost unspoken question of 'is it time to move home to be with mom?'. i hope not. i would miss my friends even more if i were out in rockford, stranded from sushi and the lake and shows and boys. but i know the more important question is not 'what do i want?' but 'what does God want?'. sheesh. i wish i knew. i've been begging Him to give me a clue for a very long time now.

and so, the being broke and the 'what the....???' of my life lately have just pushed and pulled and quietly beckoned me to pretty much pray all day every day. in weird half-conversations with myself that are actually like a rambling monologue with Jesus. the listening part is harder. i'm trying, but all i get is a vague sense of 'calm down. i've got it'. which is, you know, pretty amazing but hard to hold onto.

the worst part, really, i think, is that i feel like i have to lie almost anytime anyone asks me how i'm doing. even close friends. people at church ask me how mom is doing, and i lie. my close friends try to talk with me about things sometimes, and i dodge and weave away from them, even from their love. i don't want to be 'that girl' - that girl who cries every time you talk to her. that girl who is teetering on the verge of a meltdown at any given moment. i've been that girl before. i know how this song goes.

how long?
how long must we sing this song?

so don't be alarmed or offended if i'm hiding out from you. it's really to protect you. from me. that freako girl who would just as soon pummel you with furious punches as talk to you about how scared and exhausted she is.

today is better. its monday, which i don't mind because there are good things on TV to look forward to, and because its one day closer to the day i leave for my vacation. and because no matter how sucky i feel, i have remembered to repeat 'His mercies are new every morning' to myself every day for a long time now. it's the only way i can get out of bed most days lately.