Reaching Out

It's a good to spend time praying.  Thinking.  Planning.  Desiring.  Crying.  Laughing.  Evaluating.  Very good.  Because, the bottom line is that while we do life as community, it is that alone time that determines what part I choose to play within the community.  Within the church.  Within the family.  Within friendships.  That time spent helps to clarify purpose and dreams.  It gives direction.
But, sometimes, I have to come away from that time and reach out to others.  Share what I need.  Share what I hope.  Mostly, these days, I just hope that there's someone who hears me.
What to do when there is no response, when the world is full of....emptiness.....for lack of a better word.  When there is no return vent.  When things go out but do not return.  I don't really know.  It's kind of like this writing.  It is cathartic.  A place to simply put out there the things that would otherwise demand time and energy inside my head and heart.  But, once it leaves me, there is no return for me.  I hope and pray that it reaches someone.  That their search for understanding is helped along by my own very personal struggle.  However, I never really know.
Texting.  Emails.  Blogging.  Voice messaging.  All of these ways to put thoughts out there, but not really a good way to reach out if there is nobody reaching back.  If there is no hand that grabs onto yours.  I am getting this.  Finding it unsatisfying.  Actually having a conversation about meaningful things seems to be a rare thing.  Oh, there's plenty of drama and trauma.  Plenty of planning and scheduling.  But just time to talk and share.  That time is quickly fading away in our culture.  We email our prayer needs.  Call a prayer hotline.  We have so many options...most of which leave us alone and without depth of relationship.  No wonder kids are struggling.  No wonder adults are constantly stressed.  Frankly, reaching out is terrifying when you risk and try and find that there is no response.  Too much trouble.  That's what I feel like.  I did try this week.  As well as I could.  Sometimes, it's just time to accept what is.  Even if it hurts and seems unfair.  Maybe especially then.  Me, I've always been a hoper.  Always had faith. In God...but also in His people.  I guess that I'm having to learn to grow up.  I kinda......despise it.  And, frankly, I think I'll fight like hell to keep my life from being that empty.  I DO believe that there are those who will draw alongside, pray with and be available.  I know them.  Just lately, I feel like I've been disconnected.  Like there's static.  If growing up means giving up hope of something deep, meaningful and beautifully given by God....then I won't do it.  I'll just live with the disappointment.  I will not become immune to it.  I will choose to feel it....though it hurts.  Because who I was made to be inhales life in the give and take of communication.  Of presence.  Of words.  Of understanding.  I am very blessed.  I know what it looks like.  Feels like.  Like the hands of God reaching through us to each other......I will not give up on that. And, the stupid feeling is just that....a feeling.  Because wanting what is beautiful and excellent and worthy of praise is never stupid. Even when the pursuit of it leaves me feeling so.
grace to you.