So, maybe the title is exaggerated, but for the introverted, Thursday-Late Saturday night was quite the marathon. Since the death of my grandfather at the beginning of October, I've felt as though nothing I could do would ever allow me to catch my breath in cleaning the house, keeping up on groceries, keeping up on friends, making sure that my laundry is finished, catching up at work, keeping up with my budget, exercising, or very importantly, getting in my alone time with myself and the Lord. Friday and Saturday were no exceptions.
What began as an excited idea for my birthday weekend, quickly turned into a weekend where everyone planned a party. Thursday night, I had a few friends over, Friday I saw several friends one-on-one, then went to sushi and played softball for my birthday, skipped a party to sleep, and Saturday was invited to four parties: a birthday party, a 1st birthday party for my friends' daughter, a baby shower and my roommate's CD release party. WHEW. As the week came and went, I began to dread the weekend; I was not looking forward to the timing of all the events coming at my face. I felt like people were intruding on my time, intruding in my life. "Why is everyone doing everything on the same day?" I was frustrated, scared and, quite honestly, being a selfish little brat.
Friday morning, I awoke to prepare for Mass for the Feast of All Saints. During the Mass, I recounted the Saints who I very casually say, "Stalk me." I reminded myself that they were my friends interceding for me often. Then what hit me like a ton of bricks was the realization that their prayers for my lonely heart were answered 100 times. This time last year, I was alone often. While it was a beautiful time of loneliness and prayer in the figurative and literal desert (I live Phoenix), I prayed against the lie that I was created to be alone, and often asked the Lord to lead me to deeper friendships. I was sick of having the same conversation all time; I was tired of introducing myself and putting myself out there. I am overwhelmed at His response. Thursday evening, a small group of friends gathered to celebrate my life. MY life. What? People who didn't even know me this time last year were giving thanks: for ME. That's a humbling fact. Friday morning, a great woman desired a one-on-one lunch with me. Friday afternoon, several people made an effort to stop by and eat sushi or buy me a drink. I was needed at the softball game Friday night.
Saturday, I broke down in tears as I drove from party to party, realizing that people felt such an integral part of my life, that I was invited to very intimate moments of their lives. While I couldn't make every party this weekend, being there for a child's first cake, being able to provide diapers for a friend's first child through her baby shower, having an intense discussion with a friend while she helped clean our house for a party and decorating the house for the debut album of my roommate and very good friend are moments that I'll never forget. I cannot believe the grace and love that the Lord has poured out before me in this past year. I also cannot believe the amount of ungratefulness I've shown Him.
Sometimes, all I can think about is going home and swinging in our hammock in the backyard with a good book. While my body and mind are exhausted from an incredible weekend in which was I privy to celebrating so many beautiful lives, hearts and souls, my heart is souring through grace and hope. I am asking that you each pray with me against the ungratefulness in my heart this week, and hope with me for greater things to come.
Let's get to heaven, peeps.
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