I literally said the word “hunk” to myself yesterday. I never say that word. Like ever. I mean, is that kind of sexist and offensive? But it simply rolled off my tongue like butter. Wait, does butter roll off your tongue—that sounds kinda gross.
Anyway, I had my house deep cleaned last week. I know, so fitting after my latest blog post. But I actually had this cleaning appointment planned prior to the dream I had, and I almost forgot about it. Life is funny.
The beautiful thing about this particular house cleaning was that the person cleaning played worship music the entire time while tending to all the hard to reach places of my home. And that small act alone began to shift the atmosphere in my house and in my bedroom.
Because, you know, I feel like I’ve been wandering lately, like I’ve had no true place to call home.
A friend of mine and I were chatting and we were mentioning this feeling of being “Lost”.
I felt like a nomad, much like I felt 4 years ago when I was couch surfing while doing full time youth ministry and working as a freelancer in television. It was freeing and unsettling at the same time.
I wasn’t tied down. But I wasn’t fully grounded either. And my spirit and soul could feel that.
But now I have a place. A physical place I call home in Los Angeles. I also have a home in the place I spent my childhood.
But I’m still not attached to physical things like I used to be when I was younger. That was the loveliness left to me from my prior life’s chapter. Things come and go, but it’s people and the experiences we share with them, that leave the truest impression.
With that said, I’m almost always positioned to move if need be. I’ve learned to find rest and contentment wherever my head lays—knowing that someone not as fortunate as me would revel in such a blessing.
But sometimes you can still feel lost.
Because, true, you may not be lost…but in the wandering, your eyes and your senses are open, it’s as if you’re looking for something—
So let’s call this “Looking”, “Searching”. And in this searching, it seems you innately know something is missing. And if something is missing, does it mean that it is “Lost”?...
So perhaps we are trying to find each other--
So yesterday, I said the word “hunk”, and I will probably say that word again. It’s such an out-of-character word for me. And I giggle just a little bit when I say it out loud or even write it. But it’s important that I say it, and that I say it now.
See for me, the goal isn’t to be married. Shocking, I know. But I could’ve been married ages ago.
The goal for me is to be found and settled in that revelation. Marriage will simply be the icing on top.
Let me explain.
The mystery of love—specifically romantic love is such a strong pull in the universe, we can’t get away from it. And you know what, I don’t believe our movies and culture are simply to blame.
No, there is this strong desire in each of us to leave and to cleave.
To know and to be known.
To love and to be loved.
Some of you have tasted this and know.
Others have heard stories from our mothers, brothers, sisters, friends, and know that this type of love is actually possible, despite the cruelty of the times that we live in.
For me, it truly has been about the journey. Next year, 2016, will mark 10 years that I’ve been writing this blog. Which simply started as bits of my own online diary that then morphed into my connection with you to share stories and encouragement, while we trek together in God’s divine purpose for us.
So when I say marriage will simply be the icing on top—I truly do mean it. The steps that I have walked as a single girl for a majority of my life have marked me in ways that only God and I know—but I have shared with you glimpses.
The miracle of being found.
The miracle of being found in love—not doubting, but in belief.
I am actually walking in my romance story now.
It didn’t start when my man got on the scene. Oh no. It started long before.
That’s what I’ll take from this long season of singleness.
That romance is a continuation of what’s already been fostered in us deeply. Whether through fiery trials or disappointment—producing tenacity, strength, patience, and gratitude; or life’s joyful bits and incredible surprises, showing us that life is truly a wonderful gift.
I was infatuated with a grown man this year that had the emotional capacity and commitment of a typical teenager.
Mind you. I work with teenagers. Love them, respect them immensely, but we all know their emotions are in constant transition, not always on sure footing. And the passionate and meaningful declarations they make one night in an intense youth camp, can quickly be forgotten about when they post crazy pictures or comments on Facebook about their wild raunchy nights or dreamless lifestyle.
I remember in the early years practically tap dancing my way into my youth group’s heart in order for them to commit to coming to a youth event, activity, or camp. In the beginning it was like pulling teeth. But once they realized how amazing the experiences were, I couldn’t keep them away.
But in the beginning, I had to drag them into commitment.
But isn’t that the way with most of us.
But look, not all teenagers are crazy--just most. It’s okay. You can laugh at that.
But I didn’t want to have to tap dance or convince him of being open to me or committed to me, all the while, being right under his nose the entire time. And yes, I know we would have had a good run—maybe thee run of a lifetime. But now, we’ll never know.
Needless to say, I had to let him go….in thought and in action. You know, part of my house cleaning and such.
Meanwhile, I’m juuuuuust beginning to dream again. Which translates to Patrice watching a ton of British, Australian, and New Zealand television shows. This is my process.
I start seeing again. I start looking at the world and what’s out there. And I start to imagine and believe that anything is possible with God.
And yes, I love guys with accents. But it’s no deal breaker.
I love guys with good hearts and a sense of humor (that I actually understand) way more.
So here we are.
It’s almost Christmas.
And I’ve been given such a beautiful gift early this year:
Acorn TV (Non-stop Streaming British TV).
Okay, okay. Yes, but even more so—I’ve been given the gift of fortitude. The strength to dream again, after the defeat of 2015.
I mean, can you imagine that moment…the moment when I look into his face, that man’s face as he and I have our first conversation and somehow we both "just know”.
And in the interlude… I’ll think to myself, “My God, he’s such a hunk.”
“There is always a lovely way to look at things, you know?
Like the days we spend apart are as beautiful and essential
as the spaces between the stars.”
-- Christopher Poindexte