If a tree fell in the woods and no one saw, did it really
happen?
I’ve been chasing the tail of a feeling, an idea, a desire
since I moved from my parents’ house and into my minimally furnished solo life.
Solitude can be good for the heart and teasing abstract thoughts into writing.
There has been no shortage of solitude the past few weeks. It’s this creeping
uneasy feeling; most days I forget it’s there and rarely it wells up into full-blown unhappiness.
I figured I just needed to boost my social life. Yet weeks
of reunions, lunch dates, and meeting new coworkers at work don’t seem to ease
the tension.
I thought perhaps once I had more material things (i.e.
anything more than a bed and silverware) it
would go away but today I sit in a newly inherited chair, staring at 2/3 of
an inherited knife block again realizing “things” aren’t the fix.
At this point, my usually restrained girl brain spirals into
the only possible explanation—you know, where a boyfriend would fix things—because
it’s so much easier to blame my
problems on an imaginary person rather than the finicky heart beating in my own
chest. (**Proceeds to post snarky comment about singleness on Facebook to give
outlet to current frustration. Everyone likes it. Feels better**)
“God, can I get a witness?”
Finally I just blurt it out like I’ve secretly known my issue
the whole time. (It sounds more like a whiny girl and less like an
African-American, evangelical preacher).
And there it is: a witness.
Because even at the end of a day I have thoroughly
enjoyed—unless I post more pictures/statuses/blogs/selfies than I am personally
comfortable with in a day (read: 1)—no
one else saw my day beginning to end. No one laughed with me while I choked on
my toast while watching New Girl in a last-minute rush before work, or saw me
get a PR on my three-miler, or heard me mess up the radio lyrics during my
commute that blended ‘glory’ and ‘holy’ into an unfortunate mix of ‘hoary’.
And so there’s this trap in thinking that my life isn’t
really happening if someone else isn’t there to verify the whole thing. And the
trap gets deeper when I tell myself that I my problem would be solved with a spouse
or kids or a roommate like everyone else.
God says, “I AM,” and suddenly He opens my eyes to see my heart’s tendency to put
hope in creation rather than Creator.
I’m filled with the Holy Spirit. I’m fully known by God. Christ is my Shepherd.
Of course I have a witness.
…I just need the occasional reminder.
