Going Arty

It’s occurred to me that I don’t have fun anymore. I’ve been so busy hiding my inner self from the world that I’ve lost the art of enjoying myself. So, this week, I’m going visiting; to the museums, galleries and the odd theatre. The first two are free and as for the theatre, well, I’ll figure something. Either way, the whole emphasis is on fun and rediscovering myself.

And now for some ludicrous news. I’ve been checking out a guy in church. I don’t know who he is or anything about him. I’ve only ever seen him twice and to be honest with you, I don’t think he knows I exist. My head tells me that someone like him is bound to be attached to someone. It’s sod’s law. But another part of me tells me it’s okay to dream. I hope I see the guy again. I don’t know what I’ll do if I do see him though. I might smile. I might look away or in all likelihood, just walk past, flashing a smile as I do so. Or not. I’m in my thirties. I can’t do coy anymore without looking stupid, so maybe I shouldn’t smile. Maybe I should just walk past. Maybe I should stop with the maybes and see how it goes.

I’m writing about this guy because last night, I dreamt of him, which was strange because I haven’t dreamt about someone I like for quite a while. Okay, years. He wasn’t even doing anything particular in the dream. He was just there. I’m not foolish enough to think that the dream is a sign from heaven. It was just odd, having that dream.

The image of Christ

I was called fat the other day. I walked into the person’s living room.

“Jerusalem, you’re fat!” she exclaimed.

This is a delicate situation. I told her my body shape was quite weird and in any case, it wasn’t about how much one weighed. It was about clothes size. “I’m a UK size 10. The national clothes size average for a UK woman is a size 14,” I finished.

“Size or not, you’re still fat.”

I didn’t think I was affected until I realised that I’d been covering myself with a cardigan all week. The terrible weather helps but now, with the sun out, what am I supposed to do? I know I shouldn’t listen to what she said but words have a way of maiming one even if what is said is not necessarily true.

It is well.

In the Still of the Night

I didn’t sleep on Saturday. One thing and one thing only kept me awake. ‘If I died now, right this very minute, who would notice? Would anybody even notice that I was gone?’

My friend is in her 40s. She’s not married and doesn’t have any family in the country. I call her up a few times a week just to confirm that she’s alive and well. Don’t get me wrong. She doesn’t have a dehabilitating illness or anything. She has a great job, is full of life and loves the Lord with all her heart. There is no rational reason why she should die and her body left alone in her house for weeks without being discovered. And that’s the problem. We live in a fallen world and things happen; a bungled burglary, sudden blood clot or…anything. And that’s the fear of many singles - Christian or not; not having someone there when we need them. We’re also aware of our frailty and vulnerability. We want to belong and yet, sometimes, when we are asked to be a part of something; a social event or whatever, our vulnerability makes us hold back.

I’m guilty of this. I don’t go to ‘family stuff’ events which pretty much cuts out a substantial chunk of my social calendar. I don’t want to be faced by my friends and their young families neither do I want to be faced by my relatives and their families. I tell myself that I’m being ridiculous. Nobody will notice my tears when I see my friends’ children playing around. Nobody will notice if I turn my eyes away from a spouse’s familiar touch on the arm. Nobody will notice my gritty smile when they say, ‘Jerusalem, I can’t wait for you to get married and have children.’

And I’m right. They wouldn’t notice because they’re too involved in their own lives to notice the lone ranger in their midst.

Speaking the truth in season

I was with some friends a few weeks ago. ‘Jerusalem, do you think I’ll get married and have children? You know, have something of my own?’ a friend asked me earnestly. She wanted reassurance, I knew.

‘But of course you are,’ I said. ‘If that is your heart’s desire, there is no reason why the Lord shouldn’t grant it to you. He’s your Father.’

I didn’t believe a word I said. What I really wanted to say was, ‘I don’t know that you will get married. In fact, I don’t believe that you will get married. The truth is that you will probably have a fantastic career and dedicated church life as many church women do, but you probably wouldn’t get married and have children, just like many church women.’

My battles are my battles. My job as a Christian is to draw people closer to God, strengthen their faith walk and never, under any circumstances, make someone stumble in their faith because of my issues. I didn’t understand that before but I know so now, which is why I told her what she needed to hear, rather than the truth such as I perceived it to be.

Doing time

In answer to the infamous question, ‘what am I doing with my life?’, I’m keeping busy; job hunting, house hunting, finding out what makes me, me. Someday, somehow, perhaps I’ll be able to answer that question. Until then, who knows.

Scheduling

I've decided to update this blog on a weekly basis. I think it's better that way. So, starting next Sunday, I will have a weekly post.

In the meantime, I'll be thinking of those infamous words that was thrown at me a few days ago, 'Jerusalem, what are you doing with your life?'

And the Last Shall be the First

He's 2 years younger than me. He started attending church last year and he has a girlfriend. His story is that people dream of but never get there. He dreamt of the girl and their child before he came to the church. When he first told me about that dream, I couldn't and didn't put it down to fantasy. It was too authentic. I've been walking this pentecostal Christian malarkey long enough to know when God is in something. If they're not married within the next 2 years I'll be very surprised.

So, where does that leave me?
I envy them. A part of me wonders why it was so easy for him, after all, I've been at that church for 8 years and nothing. The other part wishes that I wasn't so self-centred, after all, not everything has to be about me.

When I was a child, I tried very hard to be liked. As a teenager, I wondered why I wasn't as pretty as other girls. At university, I pretended that I had it all figured out when the reality was the extreme opposite. I've left university and I still struggle against feelings of inadequacy. I don't like hanging out with my friends much because career-wise, they're waaaay ahead of me (and they've got the car, flat and other property they're renting to prove it). Most of them are on child 2 while I've yet to find myself a man. I know it shouldn't matter but it does and the older I get, the more it matters. There's nothing that kills the spirit more than being surrounded by couples and their families and there's you, resident single (no money, no car, a tenant not a property owner). It absolutely kills me.

So here I am. I wake up every morning with good intentions; be thankful for what you have etc but by the end of the day, I just want to crawl into bed and hide from the world. Who am I? I'm the girl that's always laughing in church. I'm the girl that's always there with a helping hand. I'm the dutiful daughter, conscientious colleague, buddy to her male friends and every girl's 'best friend'. I'm all that and not at all like that. I'm just a girl asking, seeking and trying to figure out my way in life.