young, alone, in the wealthy wilderness

In the Bible, the wilderness is not often described as a place of wealth. It's a desert, it's wild, there's little water or bread.

My wilderness is not physically deprived. It's wealthy. Affluent.

I pay attention to things. I spent the whole evening looking at things people put in their homes. Some are quite ornate and brilliant looking but have no point but then to be brilliant and ornate looking.

I spend money. Money on myself. Money on other people. Hey, it's the Christmas and holiday season. I work up to 60 hours week for it. I feel as though it's well-deserved.

I pay attention to my looks. Assess myself in the mirror. I am happy when I look skinnier or I drop a size. I get upset when I can only squeeze into those jeans.

I pay attention to my social life. I have lots of friends all over the area. It's not hard for me to find something to do over the weekend. I love being around people, and meeting new people. I am even getting better at small talk.

I pay attention to culture. I somewhat keep up with books, music and movies. I pride myself on my knowledge of these things and, depending on the crowd, that knowledge does well in small talk.

I have nothing to hunger for, nothing to thirst. I can go grocery shopping whenever I want. Sometimes I go without eating. Not because I purposely do to lose weight. I get busy. Wrapped up in other things. I ignore a basic human need to fulfill my vanities. Whether it's reading in a coffee shop, watching a movie, or updating facebook status (not like any of these are bad in itself).

I think it's funny with how much I love food (it's my passion), I put off this instinct to eat so often. But I find it even more strange how it parallels with my spiritual life ( and that could write itself a novel).

One of the things I am most hungry for is love. I don't mean love between a man and a woman (although, one day, that would be nice). I mean the love between any two human beings. A love that's found in close-knit community- in family, in friends, even in neighbors. A love thats spurred on by God's love in us.

I don't feel like I have that most of the time. Every once in awhile I do feel that, and I am overwhelmed with gratitude and glee that people could love me so and I could love them. I know people love me, and there are people out there I love very dearly.

Nowadays, I don't live on a college campus anymore, and I don't live at home with my parents. Being single and independent is quite liberating in a lot of different ways. But it's also lonely.

I love taking communion- the love that's expressed in it is multilateral. You see an image of Christ's love for you and you share in it with others. At my church back home and in my Leesburg church, communion is often shared by families. A whole family walks up and takes communion together. I love it.

But when I am at my Leesburg church, I am by myself. I don't have a direct family. It's strange. Sometimes I go up with a family I sit with, and sometimes by myself. I feel gratitude for that family letting me in on this time, but I also wish that there was someone beside me who WAS family.

I have family everywhere. By blood and by friendship.

Being single and independent in northern VA, I mourn my loss. Of course I have them. But it's not immediate. I don't wake up next to even my dog. I don't smell my dad's eggs in the morning. I don't have a husband to confide in, nor a best friend close by.

I felt this loss deeply at a Christmas tree lighting. It was just a silly, non-climatic half hour of my life-- but in that time I saw families, neighbors, friends-- people who were connected together. None who I knew. I was there alone, and a stranger in the place. I have only been in Leesburg a few months. When I used to go to things like this by myself, I would stumble into people. Even if it's a friend you're not intentional with, you feel connected and you feel loved when you can go somewhere at random will and find people there.

This is my wilderness. Leesburg. And I love this place. Don't get me wrong. But here, I am thirsty and hungry, and it's hard to find any food. Distracted by technology, materials, and work, I keep myself there, just like anyone else. I have found a church where I think I can find a family and I think I only went once in the whole month of November.

I have family. They're scattered everywhere. I go to Manassas, Burke, Arlington, Newport News and everywhere else to see them. I have family all over the country, even throughout the world.

But I need family here. But, when will I try to fill this hunger?