coming home.

Love.

It’s all around.

It’s written on my neck.

And I dislike Valentine’s Day.

The end.

Except it’s not really the end. Because although I can’t stand the consumerist nature of this Hallmark holiday, I have lots of love in my life to celebrate.

Despite having probably one of the worst weeks that I can ever remember, I’m loved by friends and continuously reminded of how great of a community I get to be in.

I have friends that drive me to church because I’m too scared to drive downtown by myself. This new community of mine (even though I’ve been there just twice) is incredible. For starters, the worship band (if they call themselves) plays nothing but bluegrass. Those of you that hang out with me on a regular basis these days know that my heart beats in bluegrass. You probably also know that I am very picky about church, which is why I generally choose to opt out instead of forcing something that won’t work. But maybe for once, I’ve found something that works.

I’m not in the habit of doing things because I’m “supposed to.” Sure, I’m “supposed to” go to church regularly. I’m “supposed to” read the Bible. I’m “supposed to” do lots of things. We probably aren’t “supposed to” sing about drinking whiskey while in church. But you know what? Singing bluegrass in church feels like coming home. (Even though my home is in the suburbs…)

I have friends that send me pictures of my favorite celebrities to cheer me up when I think I can’t possibly make it through another day. And said friends Google the handwriting of said celebrities to make it look as if the picture is autographed.

I have friends that Skype with me at 11:00 at night to read me bedtime stories.

I have friends that throw hobbit parties.

I have friends that laugh with me (but mostly laugh at me and my awkward situations) and love me through them.

I have parents that send me emails asking if I want to leave the country. Uh, yes. Of course I do. So, come May, this girl is headed to the Scottish highlands.

So, really, even though my date on this February 14th is my roommate’s TV (and only a two-minute appearance of favorite celebrity) and my never-ending pile of laundry, I’m feeling so loved.

Thanks to all of you that challenge me to be better, to not settle for the “supposed to” things in life and that love me for the strange creature that I am.

I hope you never get sick of me.

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One response to this post.

  1. Holycita, all I can say is… amen. And I NEVER say amen.

    Reply

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