“Tell me stories, Steffi!!!” my friend yelled above the music. She, being a single mom doing freelance work mostly from home so she can take care of her two year-old son, insists on living vicariously through me, her “single and available” friend who’s always out and about.
I just stared at her, wracking my brain for A Story, something that would merit her trip through the traffic just to meet me tonight for dinner and drinks to Catch Up. “I’m out of stories!” I said, just a hint of despair creeping in my voice. What is there to tell? Work is good, ministry work is good, food is good… and I have no boy stories to speak of. “Technically, there is nothing wrong with my life.”
She squinted at me through the dim lighting. “And what does that mean?” she demanded.
I shrugged. Apart from the lack of love life, I have nothing to complain about (even if the big lack of love life should be a big enough complaint, but sometimes I have too much pride to complain) . Or do I? Life’s been sort of a blur between deadlines and destinations these days. Work. Church. Friends. Family. Be here at this time, stay until this time. After work is for friends. Weekends are for family. Sunday mornings, church.
I have been coasting along without even enjoying the view.
“The thing is,” I tried again. “It’s like I’m neither here nor there these days.”
“I’ve seen you like this before.”
“It’s always right before a change and certainty.” I blinked at her, she continued, “Remember right before you got that offer for a new job? You were already transitioning even if you didn’t know to where you’re transitioning.”
“Yep, you were letting go, even I saw you. And when you finally got certainty, it was like someone switched on a light inside you.”
“I’m really excited for you.”
“I can’t wait to be excited too! I just hope that it’s not another new job. I’d like to stay longer in this one.”
Inspired by Truth Thursdays