Lately, I’ve been involved in the planning of not one, not two, but THREE different conferences coming up in the next 4 months. It’s been a bit hectic, but I’m really glad to do these organizational things because of my background in event planning back in San Francisco. I love seeing something come to completion when after having worked so hard on it. It’s nice to be able to relax after an event and even during it, seeing how much people are enjoying themselves, relating to one another, and having given them an opportunity to meet new people or network. I love the community aspect of it.
Yesterday we had our monthly fellowship meeting for young adults at our church. The ministry itself is called “Life Together” but I like to call it “23+ (-)offspring” due to the cheesiness that the current ministry name conjures up. When discussing the full weekend retreat that we’re planning for the month of June, one member of our committee was worried that people would not want to commit themselves to a whole weekend trip - that people our age are afraid of commitment. And I sincerely answered her, “I’m not afraid of commitment…” She laughed, but in all honesty, I was being completely authentic. I don’t think I’m much of a commitment phobe, but this is life. This is every day activity in which I commit myself to like going to the gym, spending some time in prayer, doing ministries…
Then I got to thinking I’m overcommitted. This last week I ended one of my favorite volunteer jobs at church: greeting. Every week at church I’m scheduled to teach Sunday School for either the 2-5th grade kids, or either teach or participate with the newly founded Youth Group. So, sadly, I had to stop making our name-tags at church, greeting new people, seeing my friends during my service so I could be with kids. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE the kids at my church - they’re wonderful, but I also love greeting too. Youth group leaders meet once a week every week except the first Monday of the month and have an activity once a month with the kids, corresponding with church leadership and parent approval. Then there’s the matter of this other ministry, the “23+ (-) offspring” commonly known as the young adult fellowship at many churches. All these ministries, all this commitment, all examples of how not afraid of commitment I really am - or am I just filling the space for what I really should be doing with my time and with my life?
This morning i woke up to anxiety. I did my normal routine of checking my email and I got a Facebook notice that an old friend from college wanted to add me as their friend! So exciting. I generally love seeing how people are doing, and where they are and what they’re doing with their one and only life that God’s given them. So, with bated breath I clicked on the link to see that my friend whom I hadn’t talked to since college had since gotten married, and is pregnant! Wonderful, right? Well, in the middle of the glad tidings, I see that many of our mutual friends in college had been commenting on her page and as I looked and searched around (alright, I was stalking) I found out another friend was pregnant. In the middle of this was glad tidings being shared not only by my new old friend that added me on Facebook that day, but many others including me of one of my dearest friends who had just had her first baby a couple weeks ago. Beautiful, exciting life, right? Why don’t I feel great then?
I’ve felt like life has passed me by. I missed something. Somewhere along the way, I didn’t do something right, or chance had given me different cards and thus I have not yet found the family that I long to have so much. What happened? I don’t know, but today I found myself in the middle of my very committed life, with no committed relationship. And oh, I do hate that feeling - the feeling that I’m left wanting. I’ve made a mistake - I’ve made HUGE mistakes, but never on a day like this have I ever felt that the weight of all my human mistakes would discourage my joy for my friends.
Perhaps my friends would not count their new families as successes, maybe their measure of success is in their careers, in the quality of their relationships, in their monetary assets, I don’t know… but I know that for me, in my life - my success would be a healthy family, something I never had and a marriage that I can put my faith in. That’s it, but it’s so much for someone as damaged as me to dream up. This feat could be bigger than climbing Mt. Everest. This may be a commitment that is too scary to take up, or too impossible for me.
Until that day comes, I hold to what I’m committed to - and that’s community, laughter and reconciliation. Seriously. Reconciliation. Despite my previous entry, I want that most for myself, for my family, and for the world. Peace - a community dream.