Post-Haiti has been a difficult experience for me. I’ve felt completely alone. This concept is ridiculous since I live with a roommate, work with vendors and other engineers, and go to a church filled with people. I think this is why I’ve struggled with it so much. and probably why I hadn’t told anyone (until last night) about it.

I am not a person that struggles with alone-ness. In fact, I am typically the person that carves out time in my weekly schedule to not have to be around people. Quiet is something that I crave. A necessity I strive to artificially create in my life on a regular basis.

This same quietness has haunted me for the last week.

In the defense of the people in my life (for whatever reason I feel that I need to defend them a little bit here), I’ve been traveling a lot – Mississippi, Houston, St. Louis, Haiti – so it’s hard to remember when I’m in KC and when I’m not. I can’t really blame them for not inviting me to things, they assume I’m out of town. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. That doesn’t make being left out less painful. It doesn’t make my idol for approval and acceptance feel satisified.

And that’s my real problem.

It’s not that I was actually left out, it’s that I felt that I should have been included in the first place. The entitlement. The expectation. The idol. The separation from God.

So yesterday I hit a low. I’ve been avoiding God (like that was going to help). I’ve been avoiding work as much as possible. I’ve basically just been sleeping and hoping these feelings would disappear. I called a buddy of mine to get a drink after my chiropractor appointment since I was close to his house and his office but he was not who God knew I needed to talk to. God had already planned for someone else to lead me back to Him.

My friend Brad ended up picking me up, taking me for wings and little World Series action, and a good conversation. In actuality, the conversation was pretty grim – I talked about struggles with cleaning my house, control issues, relationships that weren’t progressing how I wanted them to and he talked about the girl he’s trying to find closure (or new adventures) with and the pain in his knee – but the honesty and openness set me back on course. At the end of the evening, as he dropped me off at home and promised to see a movie this weekend with me, I felt home for the first time in weeks.

I was back in my skin and being honest with myself and with God.

I had lots of repenting to do and lots of praise too. In my honesty, I don’t understand why God wants relationship with someone like me. But. He. Does. Always. In my running from Him and my idolatry, He still seeks me and welcomes me with open arms when I turn around. Thanks be to God!


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