Known

I long to be known....   My husband and I began attending our 'old' church soon after we moved into our first house.  We worshipped there for about fifteen years.  Then we moved.  Then we moved again.  And now that we are only 90 miles away instead of states away, we enjoy attending from time to time.  It's like going home.  This Sunday we went.  I was enjoying worship and all was going well until we went up for communion.  That's when it happened......he said my name.  The man distributing the wine, who I have known for years, said my name.  I could barely hold it together until I got to the pew.  That's when I began to cry.

Since moving to our current location two years ago, I have not found my place.  I have met some wonderful women who are kind and loving.  Women with whom I have done bible study and gone to lunch.  Yet, I have not met anyone that I see on a regular basis who really knows me.  Part of that is due to having a full life with teenagers.  Part of it is that I grew up as an only child (my siblings are 17 and 20 years younger than me) so I am used to doing things by myself.  Part of it is that I just don't feel like I belong.  I still feel like an outsider so I don't fully engage.  Maybe I do that because I know we won't be here all that long so I don't want to get too close.  I'm not sure.  But I do know that I long to find my place and be known.  And I haven't yet.

So that is why I cried at church.  My old church is a place where I am known and loved.  It is where people know my story and I know theirs.  It is where we prayed together, encouraged each other, pushed each other, and did life together.  We celebrated and mourned together.  It is there that I was allowed to try new things knowing that if I failed, it would be okay.  I am known there.  My husband is known.  My children are known.  And we are loved.  I miss being known.....