Today, as I sit in the “man” chair at Rebekah’s house with a sweet collection of people, I realize that these people share special understandings uncommon to me. I am an outsider because I am never inside–never focusing in one group of friends or placed within one location long enough to have lasting memories.
Yes, these people have only known each other for a few years, but they are close companions, closer than I am.
My whole life I have traveled. Moved. I don’t hold those Kindergarten-to-the-present memories and inside jokes. I fail to relate to such longstanding idiocultures.
So why does this matter?
I did not expect the thought to pop up. But it did. This means there is something in my heart that longs for close connectivity. Close understanding. Close acceptance.
I am one of those people who socializes with many, many persons. I share too much of myself to too many people. It just is not wise.
I want long memories. Life memories.
I want more memories.
I do have them. I do.
But I want more.
I will be moving to Colorado within one week, or so, due to graduating from college on Saturday morning.
Am I ready?
Am I ready to rebuild a network of people, to reestablish myself, to leave an abundance of the familiar for an immensity of the unknown (except for my mom)?
You know, such is a dumb question. No one can be fully prepared for experiences not encountered. Sure, you can have knowledge, previous experience, and a great support system, but what about the improvisation of life? What about the fact that none of us are really in control.
The only person we control is our own self.
That’s one person in a world full of about 7 BILLION, free-thinking, free-willed people on an earth with free-moving nature and wind, in space with free-orbiting planets in an ever-freely-expanding Universe.
We’re really never prepared.
This is why I must put this in the hands of the Lord.
And he said, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest” (Exodus 33:14).