Safe Places

Sometimes you wonder whether the things you discover about yourself are things that were buried deep and waiting to come out or whether they are the result of who you've become.

This morning I sat in my seat at the end of service wanting to walk around to meet and talk to people. I wanted to ask how they were doing and not be afraid to go into further detail about what I was doing. But it was hard because each place that I wanted to venture didn't feel safe. And in the end, I lost out.

There are people who can walk into a room and command attention just by being who they are. It's not arrogance but inner confidence and a feeling that they will be accepted lovingly. There's a natural grace, a freedom of movement and breath: hand on shoulder, light laugh and perfect pitch of voice. We can all be the best of who we are, and give the best to those we're with, when we feel safe and comfortable to do so.

To be fair, I guess it just really has to do with social dynamics; with the way you're integrated into your surroundings, and the closeness you have with people. Cell Group was a lot like that last year, where I understood the relationships drawn between each of us friends.

It feels weird not to have that this year, where things have shifted. And it feels odder still to want to give and smile and listen yet not know how. I guess that's what coming home entails: the redrawing of lines (as in connections), and the trying to understand how you relate to one another when you're all at such different places.

I wish in some ways that I could be outwardly mobile, to actively redraw those lines. But it's hard too because coming home my first obligation is always to my family, whom I love and in whom I find the safest of places. There I can be bold and boisterous, absolutely uninhibited, where I am not afraid of attention or wanting to shrink into a wall. Maybe that's why I love going home.

But sometimes I think that if I could leave from time to time and not feel guilty (it's a weird concept isn't it?), then I could learn to seek other safe places, discover or build them. Life lately has indeed been a Catch 22, and I've come to understand that you can't ever have it all. For the most part, it's okay. Being home is warm and wonderful and the time I have with my family I wouldn't trade. I guess I just needed to put down this concept onto paper. Because paper has always been for me the safest of places.

Posted on December 25, 2006 at 01:41AM