Or, Internal Conflict
Sometimes I think Melissa Alagon is a prophet. Back in March she saw something moving in me that I was only beginning to see and was not ready to deal with. I can now say that I should have dealt with it then, because it’s so much worse to have to deal with it now. My personality is changing, and it is a very internal process to have to deal with at camp, where I am never alone.
In March, Melissa told me a story about her Freshman year in college. She was extremely extroverted, bubbly and bright, funny, and always the life of the party, even to the point of sometimes being overwhelming to people. Much like myself. Toward the end of her freshman year, she started to experience a change in her attitude and action. She became much more introverted, much less likely to be in the middle of the crowd, to be the first to meet people, the center of attention. She saw this struggle beginning in me, and sought to encourage me, telling me that this change could be good, could be the right direction for me to move. Then, I was not ready to deal with that change. It was too much for me in the midst of SLR and classes I couldn’t handle, it was scary, and something I wasn’t fully experiencing because I was comfortable with my friends and my life in LaGrange. I didn’t need to deal with it then, and so I didn’t.
Now, necessity has wrought discomfort as I try to adjust to a new environment, make new and lasting friendships, all while spending every waking moment ministering to kids. Tonight on the phone, I told Kelsey that if I never had to make another friend, I would be totally fine. While that’s not totally true, I have become really uncomfortable with meeting new people. I find I have less than minuscule self confidence, that I suck at making small talk, and that even though with all my heart I want to invest in people and go from zero to BFFs in .5 seconds, I find that I can’t force that bond and wouldn’t know how to if I could.
I’m reading The Ragamuffin Gospel right now, and have discovered that even when I suck at life, and invest all of myself in people and get nothing in return, and am sad and broken, that I am then closest to God, because he died because I cannot do anything alone. This point of brokenness, however, is nonetheless painful. I am not deserving of love in this place, but God lavishes it upon me, and I cannot seem to accept it, even as he continues to pour it out. As I transition to a quieter, more humble place, I am learning to rely on my Father, and learning that in my extroversion, I was never as together as I felt.
