This post is part of a 31 day journey. See the rest of abide: love where you live right here.
For the eighth grade dance, I chose a hot pink taffeta dress. It had a sweetheart neckline, off the shoulder cap sleeves and a tea length hem. I tried to paint my own nails a very, very magenta. I had braces and a perm. Freckles smattered their way across the Dutch/Prussian cheekbones my daddy gave me (see him as a boy here). I went with a few friends who were girls. Boys did not notice me.
The problem with me and dances was that I loved to dance but I was deathly afraid of embarassing myself but I really loved to dance but I would have died a thousand teenaged eye rolling deaths if anyone laughed at me. Also. I am and was a textbook introvert.
So. Right there in the middle of a stifling, preteen filled middle school gymnasium slash cafeteria, my angst was at an all time high. I was alone. In the middle of all those people, I was totally alone. I couldn’t tell anyone how afraid I was because I couldn’t let anyone know how afraid I was. I had teased my bangs, for goodness sake. I held up the wall as the saying goes.
That feeling has followed me on and off throughout my young adult and then adult life. The feeling of being simultaneously surrounded and utterly alone is confusing and heart-wrenching.
We long to be known, to be among others who get to the very center of our being. It’s more than classification. It’s identification. At our very core, we want to be enveloped and wrapped up in familiar heart knowledge.
Abiding means being in the midst.
Where you live can be a place where the very thick of who you are is wrapped up tight. It’s where the heart ties bind.
This weekend? Instead of being around our people let’s choose to be in the midst of our people. Being around comes first to be sure but being in the midst implies that we are showing up right to the core. It’s a present continuous type of thing. Let’s be being in the midst over and over again. Let’s search out hearts and offer them belonging.