Get a Reality Check

This week has been unconventional to say the least.The university I work for had a snow day on Tuesday, and for half a day my office was empty of all humanity except for those in my pod. I worked on an index all week. And for some reason, I find indexes stimulating. Especially when the page numbers are all off by two. My sister and I have been without sustenance since Saturday. No matter how adult I become, I will never get grocery shopping down. I finally went last night, spent way more than I should have, came back with my twenty bags, and then stood at the outside door to the first floor with the horrifying realization that I was locked out. And everyone in my building was probably at church. I had to call my sister (who was at work) to come back to the apartment to let me in. My life is a complete mess!

But isn’t the messiness of people what makes them lovable? In my theatre class, I am working on an interview performance. I interviewed my coworker for half an hour and chose three of her stories to perform as her. The way she moves her hands, the way she moves her head, the way her eyes light up when she thinks something is funny–she is not like me at all. And that’s a good thing! She is unlike anyone I have ever met. I don’t know how else to describe her; she is real.

Today toward the end of the work day, my pod mates and I talked and laughed about realness. Quoting The Emperor’s New Groove, sharing our favorite sermon illustrations–we are ordinary people with ordinary jobs having an ordinary Thursday. Yet the little details are the ones I remember. The little details are the ones I write down for scene ideas for my hypothetical play. The little details are the ones that create believable characters. I think that in theatre, you have to love those characters. And you have to love people.

I am not naturally a people lover. I’m like the A&E version of Elizabeth Bennett: “There are few people whom I really love and even fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more I am dissatisfied with it.” But since I began going to this particular Greenville church, I have found a family of people who aren’t afraid to let me into their mess. And little by little I am trusting them with mine. That’s how relationships are built. That’s how love is shown.

I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I can’t seem to get past it. God loves me. He sees me with my mess, and He loves me just as I am. He chose me just as I am. He loves me too much to leave me there. But I didn’t have to prove myself to Him. I didn’t (I couldn’t) hide my mess from Him. He knew all of it, and He still wanted me. If I learn nothing else from this episode with Fishie, I’m glad that I am learning this: I’d rather have God than anyone else.


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