Chosen or Loser?

I love watching award shows. I'm a sucker, not just because I'm somewhat obsessed with entertainment, but because the actors that have become characters on screen that have reached into my emotions and pulled something out are receiving acknowledgment for being my vicarious heroes. My favorite speeches are always the ones where the least expected gets the award. The actor or actress attempting to give a speech in the midst of authentic shock has always had a place in my heart.

This week, I got a job. And I felt like what Sarah Jessica Parker said accepting her first Emmy for Sex and the City, "I've never won anything in my life!" Although getting a job is a far cry from getting a Grammy or Oscar, I had a realization about why I find the underdog speech so compelling: I completely relate. In the week leading up to my hearing from my prospective employer, I found myself rationalizing every reason why I wouldn't get the job. I wondering if I wanted it enough for God to want to give it to me. I kept remembering the other two companies that seemed so positive about me, then let me know I wasn't selected in the end. I reminded myself how bad the job market is and how great the competition now -- where good friends of mine with great talent and experience are still jobless.

So when I got the phone call and the deal was sealed a day later, it forced the shock to the surface. Why was it so suprising to me that I would get something I wanted and needed? As I think about this question, I look over the last five months of this year with gratefulness and more than a little awe. There are many reasons why I know this year will stand out as a landmark year in my life. Beginning with great tragedy and grief that will continue to linger in some form always, I also found myself just a few months ago in a transitional void: no job, no gigs, no forseeable end to my singleness. But not even halfway through the year, I find that two of those three areas in my life are extravagantly provided for -- by no control or orchestration of my own.

It is difficult to see myself in general as someone chosen. This last key area of my life -- of the three, the biggest area of issues and failure in my life historically -- is one where that holds particularly true. But as I thank God ("the Academy," if we're going with the analogy) for taking care of me when I least expected it, I can start to hope that just maybe I am also the girl that gets the guy in the end.

On Not Being That Girl

Speaking of That Girl, and coming to terms with not being her, I have also come to terms with the fact that there are many things I am not that many men are into. If we're talking about traditional gender types, I'm not the most girly girl out there. Rather than getting gushy over romantic comedies, I find most of them annoying or even offensive. And though I'm fine with initiating and sending signals of interest and enjoyment of a person, I can't shamelessly throw myself at them the way most girls do and respect myself in the morning. Over the years, I've learned to be responsible and take care of myself, but also don't want to be any guy's mom -- a role many women will gladly assume in exchange for a life-long boyfriend. I'm a DJ -- and last I checked, that was a largely male-dominated field (though the stats are slowly changing on that).

Perhaps I display more self-sufficiency or confidence than is comfortable for most men. I think at times, my speaking my mind has gotten me into trouble or put me in a box -- with both men and women. Many men want a damsel in distress, who can make them feel like a hero or savior. Others want the opposite -- someone who will cook them meals and set their calendars for them. And still others seem to want the hottest girlfriend trophy. As for me, I think Billy Joel said it best, "I just want someone that I can talk to." But as a girl with such varied interests and opinions as I have, I realize that is easier said than found.


"Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them, or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a f***ed-up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind." -- Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

That Girl

I have an odd ability to make myself the target of That Girl.

That Girl is most succinctly defined as the opposite of me in almost every way. She is generally very well put-together, usually more attractive than me, is incredibly insecure and has some need to find validation from a guy I'm somehow involved with -- whether romantically or not. Although I may try to be friendly to That Girl in a respectful, but non-ass-kissing way (I'm not a big ass kisser, which sometimes ends up hurting me), I somehow get into the line of target for That Girl's latest crazy-fest. She's sizing me up, she's critiquing me for being friendly with guys the way I'm friendly with girls, she's trying to one-up me in a contest I never signed up for and, frankly, don't understand.

The baffling thing about That Girl is that I can't get rid of her. When one goes away, another appears somewhere to create annoyance or unnecessary drama. Whatever may be said about my own issues, I sure am glad I'm not That Girl.

Just Not That Into Him

As I have pondered my singleness lately, I have realized that as many times I have been interested in a guy who is not that into me, there even more guys I have come across that I'm just not that into.

A few years ago, whether or not I was attracted to someone felt like a big, muddled mess. I couldn't distinguish what reasons I liked this guy and not the other -- was it based on my issues and need to either be in control or take care of someone? Or was it because he was actually a good guy? My track record spoke more of the former.

But now, after my first healthy attraction in years, I can say with new confidence that growth has happened in my person. The fact that nothing has actually come of it is almost irrelevant. The good news is that I can actually trust myself again, and it's possible for me to be attracted to someone who has good character and love for God, as much as chemistry with me, sense of humor and common interests. Not like the disaster of 2003. Or of 1997. Or of 1992. But I digress. I must also concede that there have been interested guys that are perfectly good ones, but I'm just not that into them. And I take responsibility for how that has also kept me single over the years. No regrets either way.

My behavior in dating can be likened to my behavior in looking for jobs. In both areas, I get advice from everyone to cast the seed as widely as possible, and make myself open to many options. But I think I'm more in the phase of figuring out what I want and what my non-negotiables are. And though I'm trying to be open, and definitely not foolishly investing all my hopes into one job (or man), at heart I think I'm just a one-man, one-job-at-a-time kind of girl. And that's okay for now.

Still Standing

A few months ago, I pretty much told God that I couldn't handle another disappointment in the area of romance. So meeting any guy, let alone one I connected with, was pretty loaded with terror.

But as I've taken on the new approach on my life of one day at a time, I've found myself able to trust God with this area of my life one day at a time. The journey has been at times exciting and full of hope, at other times incredibly scary and full of fear and self-protection. But as the first third of 2008 is rounding out, and I find doors closing on jobs and men who just aren't that into me, I find myself able to pick myself up, dust myself off and start all over again.

In a season where I look at my own life and those around me and actually see the hope and character that comes from suffering, I think this single adulthood thing isn't so bad -- even when it is.

The Sadder But Wiser Girl

Once in a while, the clutter of thoughts about my present and future unknowns subsides and I remember the past, and how far I've come. I had a realization the other day that part of the difficulty of being single in your 30s and onward is that as you may have become an adult over the years -- by the grace of God -- not everyone else is growing alongside you. People you once looked up to may be in a similar rut as they were, or have changed in a way that is different from what you expected. Others may have quietly become personal heroes to you, that you might not have predicted just a few years ago. I guess that's the thing about a person's character; it is formed on deep within them, often times quietly.

Although I don't consider myself a person who has had to confront a lot of suffering in my life, I have had my share of loneliness, depression and disappointment. And I know from the little I've experienced of true suffering, that God has taken that and shaped me from it more than anything else has. Maybe part of being an adult is learning to receive even the suffering in your life as something God intends to redeem into something deep within your character. I'm grateful for the ways I can hope and care for people better because of my own scars.


"That's right, Eliza... You're a lady now." -- "My Fair Lady," 1964

Gesundheit

In the movie "Singles," one of my all-time faves (and an oft neglected feather in Cameron Crowe's cap), character Janet (played by Bridget Fonda -- how I wanted to be her in high school) is asked by male buddy Steve what women want in a guy. She expounds on the ideals she brought with her when moving from her hometown that comprise a fairly inclusive summary of what most women have said or thought she has wanted in a guy: looks, security, caring, likes "the same things as me but not exactly," loves me, and says "bless you" or "gesundheit" when I sneeze. Steve follows up the question with a natural one: what is the list now? Janet has scaled it down over the years: "Someone who says 'gesundheit,' although I prefer 'bless you.' It's nicer."

At the time I first saw this movie, my list was probably strikingly similar to Janet's: sense of humor, attractive, considerate, knows and gets me, artsy but not too artsy, handy with house and finance matters, blah blah blah. Over time, every single woman must negotiate with her list. In Janet's case, implicitly this was mostly because she has been somewhat jaded by the reality of men out there. But other times, the whittling of the list comes with a maturing of expectations and a comfortability with who we are in ourselves. We can let go of the things we wanted in a guy that represent what we want people to think of us, or that pose potential risks of us getting hurt -- we get that hurt happens.

Now, if posed the question, my own list has been scaled down over the years. But my demand has maybe been too high for the men I've known thus far: that he just love me, and love God (the source of love). Well, most of the time anyway. He won't be perfect. He won't "get" me half the time, he might think some of the things I like are petty or lame (and vice versa), he will hopefully call me out when I get self-focused or controlling, and as much as i hate this one, he will definitely hurt me (though I would hope never willingly) and disappoint me, and I him.

Though I remain single as more friends have not only spouses but families now, I can't seem to let this one go off my list. But I don't know -- talk to me in a few years. Maybe I'll be down to "gesundheit."

Thank God for the Brothas

Although my luck hasn't necessarily been in the area of romance, I have been extremely fortunate through my young adult life to have men in my life who care for me and love me in a way not every woman has. They value me in a unique way, and help restore my faith in mankind.

These men are the brother figures. They want to know how I'm doing, they are thoughtful and intentional in expressing my value to them, they are protective when I share about a fella I might be interested in, and they cheer me on and reaffirm ways I have grown over the years. They know me and remind me that I'm worth someone recognizing my value, but also encourage me to deal with life and people as they really are. They are safe places for me to be valued, sans B.S. to wade through.

I can't deny that God knows me and loves me when I think about these divine placements in my life over the years. He always seems to give me that needed encouragement through them at just the right time. A special shout-out to those who have loved me well, and taught me the blessing and healing of a healthy cross-gender friendship. I love you like a sister does: more than you could possibly know.

The Long Interview

I just got through a 4 1/2 hour interview. I think it went okay, but after about hour 3, my brain (not used to all that talking and activity) started turning to mush. By the final interviewer, I'm not really sure what came out of my mouth, and I could feel myself stuttering just to get words out.

The interview process involves a strange game of cat and mouse. Once you've expressed interest and they've expressed interest back, no cards are fully revealed on either side until a mutual agreement of employment has been made. You might go on a second or even third interview, and think you knocked it out of the park, but never get a call back. You might answer one question the wrong way, and not know you just expressed a hot button for the company. You will generally get nothing but smiles, regardless of what they think of you.

It is not unlike the dating process in that way. You might express interest, he might respond in kind. You can go on a second or third date feeling like you're on a road somewhere, but never get a call back. Sometimes you understand where things went wrong, other times you don't. And like a job, dating is an at-will agreement -- whether it's you or him not feeling it's a good fit. Maybe it's not the right time, or the "job" has already been filled as you've been interviewing.

My life is all interviews right now. Sometime soon, I'm hoping to find the right fit, and hear the good news that I got the job.

Been There, Felt That

As a single woman, sometimes it can feel like you just can't wait another day to meet someone -- anyone -- who might at least spark your interest. Sometimes it can feel like you have waited longer than anyone else in the world to meet someone, and feel like you have somehow been forgotten by God among the millions of needs and hurting people in the world. Or that you are the only one feeling the pain of unrequited feelings. Sometimes you look around at the increasing number of your married friends -- some who have been married for years now -- and it seems they have always been content and comfortable in their relationship. 

But the truth is, you are not the only one. In fact, probably every person you know has been in your shoes or is in your shoes now. If I sit and think even for a moment about some of those friends, I quickly recall stories of angst and drama -- some that lasted for years and years -- that were part of the road to getting where they are now. I recall the same frustration and waiting and wondering, I recall healing processes that sometimes involved painful rejection and disappointment over again. And I recall reality -- that even just a week or two ago, this friend told me about a frustrating dynamic in her marriage, and that friend shared about her husband's struggle with forgiveness. 

Though it doesn't make me feel better to remember some of the painful roads my own friends have taken, it does help snap me out of my own false bubble of isolation.  It spurs me on to trust God with another day of my life as an adult, choosing to hold on not knowing what the future holds. And it reminds me that I'm normal.

Chasing Cinderella

Over the years, I have confronted my own obsession with the Prince Charming, perfect guy fantasy. Over this year in particular, I have given up the ghost as dwelled upon in previous posts. I'm living in both the harshness and freedom of embracing reality head-on. There's no feeling quite like knowing you have overcome what used to be such a paralyzing issue, even if it means dealing with the terrifying issues of real life.

The problem is, you can't bring others with you on a personal journey through healing. Everyone must brave their own alone.  And if the single men around you are still living with ghosts in their closet -- or one ghost -- what is a single woman to do?  I have tried competing with a fantasy before, and I lose every time.  

As much as I love Silent Bob, it turns out his Hollywood story about chasing Amy is all too common, and has become a real liability.  And real girls like myself go back to the drawing board.  Hopefully we'll find a real guy someday, who has real issues like ours.

What Does Settling Sound Like?

My friend sent me this article published on The Atlantic.com:
http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200803/single-marry

The topic of "settling" starts to become a regular visitor to the thoughts of anyone single and over 30. You just went through a decade of watching friends get married to sweethearts, and suddenly you are almost out of single friends of the opposite sex. For better or for worse, you are left in a lot of those who did not settle.

But settling, like any facet of relationships, is not a black and white issue. The word connotes something negative in all of our minds -- who wants to settle for something less than what they want? I grew up settling for things because my mom didn't want to pay a certain amount or because she just didn't like what I liked. So as an adult, I've had to face my own inner child, that wants to demand things exactly as she wants them -- she's done settling.

Enter adulthood. The older you get, the more you realize almost nothing in this world is all one thing or all another -- all good or all bad. And hopefully, the fantasies that have been constantly spoon-fed down your throat since you left the womb about Prince Charming, perfect soul mates and matches made in heaven are starting to get stripped from your adult mind and you are exchanging it for reality. In that sense, everything we choose involves some amount of "settling," because nothing in this world is perfect. It's just different -- each with its own set of great and not so great things. The question isn't whether or not you should settle -- it's about knowing what you can settle for.

I appreciate much of what the writer of this article, Lori Gottlieb, is saying inasmuch as she bucks the whole notion of romantic dreams come true. We just don't hear that enough in our culture. But I do believe that romantic love is out there for everyone -- maybe just not in the way we've been brainwashed into thinking. For me, the most compelling part of the article comes she says: "Women across the country are poring over guidebooks that all boil down to determining, 'Does he like me?,' while completely overlooking the equally essential question, 'Do I like him?'" A woman with a crush is generally a woman in love with a fantasy of the man she has met, so rejection will feel like the one perfect man meant for you just labeled you not good enough. The reality is, he is not that one perfect man; he is just man. And if those particular imperfections either prevent him from appreciating who you are or have rendered him emotionally incapable, then who needs that? That's living in reality.

I could go on about this topic, but what do I really know? I apparently haven't settled either way.


Mr. Not-So-Perfect, "Shopgirl," 2005

My Best Friend's Wedding

Over the weekend, one of my best friends got married. It was overall a joyful day. There is nothing like celebrating with someone close to you - it was the happiest I've ever been for a friend getting married.

But in the strange season life happens to be for me right now, there was a hint of sadness for me as well. As I prepared my toast for my good friend over the week, I found myself in a mix of intense emotion. Joanie was getting married - something I had hoped, prayed and suffered with her over the years. It meant a prayer answered, but it also meant the end of a season in our friendship. I found myself in the midst of adulthood, wondering where the time had gone and when we had all grown up. I looked around me and realized with both joy and sadness that things had changed. Joy for the ways I have grown and seen my suffering turn into character and hope over the years, sadness for the unique lightness of young adulthood that was gone and never to be returned to. And I was escorted into the reception by two groomsmen because of the absence of a bridesmaid, our friend Midi. Things have changed, indeed.

2008 continues to be the year of facing the reality of life, stripped of all fantasy that any situation I can conjure up will magically complete me. No man, job, friendship or status can be perfect or make me someone I'm not - all of the best of these things still bring their own share of suffering. It is a reality of both hope and pain, of waiting and living, of being both scared of the future and completely secure in what it may bring. And I go forward knowing what you never want to admit in your 20s - that you can't insist on your own way in life, and maybe that's for the best.


March 15, 2008 with my two best friends

Today

I think life changed for myself and many others at the beginning of this year in losing my friend, Midi. As for me, I began to see how much pain we bear in this life. As I posted a few weeks ago, we change whenever anything dies in our lives. The reality is, just as new things happen and new things are born everyday, countless things and people die everyday as well. It is the surest sign that this world is not as it was intended to be -- that pain we feel, the suffering of loss and grief of death are signs that something is not right.

What I have been learning about myself and about human nature is that we don't know how to handle pain. Some of us run from it for dear life, some of us wallow, some get angry, some blame themselves, and I think all of us fear that it will happen again. I am guilty of doing all of the above at some point in my life.

But today is a new day, in a new time after January 1 of this year. Everyday I feel in some way that things are not as they should be. I have had moments of looking around me and wondering when things and people changed as they did. When did I lose that closeness with this friend, or when did I find myself not caring about the same things, or feeling the same as the people around me? Oddly enough, I think this is a pain of growing up. And instead of responding in the ways I used to, I'm learning to accept the state that I am in in this world right now, today. For me, it is a season of living day by day. Because today's troubles are enough for today. And whatever it is I'm going through, I can get through it 24 hours at a time.

The Worthwhile Wait

I hate waiting. There is nothing like bad traffic or long lines to bring out the expletives. But the more I've thought about it, the more I realize life is all about waiting. When a major life threshold is crossed, there is always something new to wait for. In a larger sense, we are always in waiting for a thing that is bigger and grander than what we have now. But waiting is a constant reminder that we are not in control. And that pushes my buttons.

A problem with waiting may look on the surface like impatience or anxiety. But underneath it, I see in myself a fear of being disappointed the way I've been in the past, and an anticipation that it will only happen again. My fear is that my needs and desires go unnoticed by God and I'll be left hung out to dry. On the flip side, the cure for my impatience I think will only be found when I resolve those issues from the past and find a new freedom to hope for what is to come, whatever it may be. To say you have hope for anything is much easier said than practiced. If I really was a person of hope, the wait is simply part of the journey and part of the anticipation. Like a period of engagement, it is filled with activity and excitement for what is to come.

And so I return to square one. I may not get this job, or that guy, or this other gig. But I'm determined to hope and dream bigger, and believe that goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life. Though it may take everything to reverse the cynicism bred in me from my youth, I resolve to live for today and wait in hope for tomorrow. No more waiting in vain, Bob.

The Available Sign

Although we technically no longer live in the era where we need to depend on a dowry and willing male suitor, or a time of arranged marriages, I don't know if there will ever be a time where the single woman has full say in whether or not she gets the man.

Despite the movements of women's liberation, feminism and the like, when you boil it all down we women still want to be cared for in a relationship where we are not playing Mom to our mates.  I include myself in a line of women who still believe that it is the man's job to ultimately lead in a relationship -- not in a patriarchal, chauvinistic way, but in a grown man with balls way. I have male friends who agree with me on this, more knowing that it's as good for them as it is for us.  And having gone the "take charge" way before and have it backfire miserably, I don't need much more convincing.   

Which is not to say women sit back and hope and pray for the him to show up on our doorstep like a FedEx Christmas present.  There are certainly ways to send signals of openness and communicate interest.  But what do we do when we are all out of our bag of tricks?  We find ourselves right back in the middle of Jane Austen England, where if he's just not that into you or if he doesn't have the guts to respond, the lady is S.O.L. 

Sometimes I wish we lived in a society (does one even exist out there?) where we could all just be upfront with our cards.  "I like you," "I don't like you," "I like you but am emotionally unavailable."  Sometimes the signs-only world that is our dating culture gets very tiresome, and I'd say gets us all into more complicated situations than not. Maybe we're all a little too afraid of hurting each other's feelings. But I'll take hurt feelings any day over mixed signals for months. It's a time saver... and at 31 that counts for a lot.

Singlefemalitis

There are times I walk around feeling like I have a disease: Singlefemalitis. The disease is experienced by all who remain single into their early 30s, who have a decent sense of humor and set of social skills. Symptoms manifest only around certain couples and certain single men, and bring out reactions in these parties that include fear, awkwardness, jealousy and confusion.

I can manage well enough in my condition around couples. I'm sensitive to the adverse effects it can have, so I try to make a point of interacting as much with the female as male counterparts to make all feel at ease -- especially if I share any kind of common bond with the male. It can get hard when male friends of mine are in need to know I can't just reach out as I might have freely done in my college years or even a few years ago, when the disease was more widespread and boundaries not as needed. As a result, sometimes you will just lose touch with people -- both male and female -- merely because of your single condition.

For me, the disease is more difficult around the single men who aren't interested and can't shake the fear of Singlefemalitis. It brings out in them the fear of giving you the wrong idea. I don't know what's worse: that I am seen only for my singleness, not beyond that as a person or friend; or that it is presumed that I'm so hungry for companionship and respite from the condition that they'll somehow get sucked into it with no escape. I wanna tell them, "Dude, I'm okay with it -- can we be adults and move on?" But things being how they are, certain things are just not okay to say.

And so I continue to deal with my disease day to day. Most of the time I hardly feel its effects, and often even enjoy its benefits. But it only takes a weird vibe to remind me that sometimes my singleness can be a discomfort to more than just myself.

Heart-crack, heartbreak

January was the longest month I've been through for maybe as far back as I can remember at this point. As a child, every month seemed to stretch on forever. When you're an adult, only a very significant event seems to slow it down -- as if your reference point for "beginning" has been reset.

As I've been contemplating many things during that long month, and beginning on a road of healing over the loss of a friend, I have been struck by the fact that no one is replaceable in this world. Every person is completely unique in their thoughts, loves, qualities, perceptions. So when you lose someone in your life, you change as well.

When you lose someone in a breakup, you might become jaded or bitter, but hopefully instead you learn from the experience and become more healed and whole instead. When you lose someone permanently, you might find your fears about life and death surfacing, or grief may give way to anger or hopelessness. But hopefully, instead you find new conviction in the things you believe, and urgency to give meaning to the time you have here. Either way, when loss occurs in relationships, it is impossible to stay just the same. People touch eachother's lives in deep ways, and when they leave it is up to us to process and ultimately choose what that change is to become in us.

We can even experience multiple losses at once. In one fragile state, we can experience another blow. It might feel like a mere bruise or cut in comparison the broken leg most of our emotional energy is being expended on, but the bruise or cut inflicted must still heal as well.

I walk around with a limp this month. And though I'm feeling the pain in more than one place, I'm determined to be healed in hope for the better, not in resignation for the worse. I'm prepared for the prognosis of "long recovery period" -- it often is with our hearts.

Single, But Never Alone

Today I watched my good friend and her beloved son get buried. It was the closest death I've ever experienced, and the loss of a great woman. The last couple of weeks have felt like a couple of months, and there is a seemingly permanent ache that moves from the pit of my stomach to my chest and then back again. It disappears for brief moments, when disbelief has suspended the pain of reality. But it can return like a ton of bricks again at any time.

But over the past couple of weeks, I have also been reminded of some important things -- things I realize I couldn't live without. One, I referred to in my previous post already. Were it not for the promise that life here on earth is just a shadow of life and joy to come, a grain of sand on the beach of eternity, and that I will see my friends Midi and Nathan again, I would fall apart or find some temporary delusion to make myself feel better.

In addition to that promise, I have been overwhelmed and grateful for the community of friends I am priviledged to know and be a part of. These people have a love in them that brings us together in a time like this to ensure that no one will be alone in a time of great suffering. They come together and put all things aside to rightly honor a great friend and woman before 500+ witnesses of her love and life. I can connect with friends I haven't seen for years, and it's as though not a day has gone by -- except that we are each deeper and wiser for our experiences since then, not jaded and bitter as many get. And as I have spoken with others about the tragedy that has befallen my friend, I have been reminded that most people in this world don't have that. Many suffer and die alone.

Many people say a loved one that has just passed away was amazing, extraordinary or special. Many also say their friends are the greatest people in the world. But I lost a truly extraordinary friend last week, and it makes grieving her loss a weighty thing indeed. But I also celebrate her life with truly the greatest people in the world - the kindest, most genuine, funny, and loving. I have the priviledge of knowing people who have surrendered their lives to the only thing that can transform us beyond the surface and into the core of who we are, and be selfless in a way no one makes it their business to be. I don't think I could live without these things, but I also know it is a luxury none of us deserve.

I don't often get all God in this blog, but I have a lot to say this week about things that feel much more pressing than relationships and dating. The last and most important thing I have been reminded of is the true treasure and reality of my friendship with God. And of all people, it is my friend Mark who has just suffered this immense loss, that has reminded me of this. He survives with an immeasurable hole in his heart, and it is because his God is bigger than that hole in a way we don't understand. And as I have pondered the fleeting nature of this life and how we each have a beginning and end date here in this life, it has forced me to know more than ever that the constants in my life are unseen -- they souls and spirit, and life that has been breathed into body. And God has brought me through these last two long weeks and will continue to be my friend to lament my loss this year and beyond.

For all of these things, I could be single for the rest of my life, but I know I won't be alone.

2008: Nothing's Ever Promised Tomorrow Today

I don't know that anyone is ever prepared when death comes upon a loved one. But in most circumstances, you have some warning: a grandmother with Alzheimer's disease, a father with cancer, or just plain old age that makes a person vulnerable. Of course, that never makes it feel any less shocking when it actually hits. Suddenly, this very important, beloved person in your life is no longer there. Life passes to death in a moment, and there is no preparation for knowing you'll never be able to talk or laugh with them again.

I just lost a dear friend to a very sudden and untimely, hit-and-run car accident on New Year's Day. One of her twin sons was also taken by the crash. Her husband and their other son survive them. And the fragility of life and all that we think we possess have startlingly been brought to my attention to start off this new year of 2008.

Though my heart is heavy and things in my life that seemed so important just a few days ago suddenly seem much smaller and yet much more difficult to do, I'm humbled by her husband's response in the midst of a bigger personal tragedy than most people will ever experience: That in heartbreak, he is so grateful for the time he had with his wife and 4-year-old son, which he sees as undeserved gifts to him from God, and that he'll see them again soon as life is short in the span of eternity. Some people may call this crazy talk -- I say they are the words of a man who knows well that God loves him and is unchangingly good, even when we are thrust into circumstances we may never understand the reason for. These are things I myself am still trying to learn...

As I begin what I've already been sensing is a new season of my life marked by the end of 2007, I do so with this perspective: that my life and all that it entails is borrowed, not anything I'm entitled to. We are all dust in the end. As for me, I believe there's something far more amazing that awaits after death, though I know not all carry that same hope. And I'm grateful that gives me the one thing that can't be taken away.

My friend's last words to me were in passing when I saw her at a wedding a few weeks ago. They were in regards to plans we were making for my best friend's upcoming bachelorette party: "Tina, please tell me we're not doing Thunder Down Under!" Her great sense of humor matched her beauty and life. And god, I'll miss her.

Midi Kim Mikasa -- we will grieve your loss for months and years to come. I know I can only strive to be the person of quiet, genuine love and joy you were. The world lost one of its great saints yesterday, and we know it.