This Bitter Red Sea

The Angry Sea by Thomas Moran

It was a simple invitation, and yet the wave of anger within me that rose in response was far more than anticipated. Apparently, i'm still bitter. 

Tonight, like every other Wednesday night, my housemates had friends over to watch movies, play games, and generally socialize. And tonight, like every other Wednesday night, i headed to my room to avoid them.

The pattern this week was no different: Guest show up, they invite me to join them, i politely decline then make like a tick and flee, and we all go about our nights as we please. This night would have a twist though. 

While hiding my room, i received a text from Petra.

Care to join us in the basement for some worship?

I replied with a thanks but no thanks. 

So far so good. We're sticking to the routine and everyone seems happy. The dam of smiles and polite responses remains intact to insulate us from my bitterness and allow for civil conversation.

Then she responded, and the dam i've so carefully kept intact collapsed. 

She gently chided me for letting the opportunity slip by, for missing out on something i was once passionate about. Her text wasn't harsh - heck, she used two smiley faces - but the blindness in which it ignored so much history seemed arrogant. 

I realized i was furious.

For over a year, i relentlessly invested my social pull to positively influence the lives of my friends. Towards this end, i created more social get togethers than i can remember. People would show up, have a great time, and probably make new friends while they were at it (whole new socialspheres were created.) 

Behind the fun though, i meticulously crafted these settings to have a deeper purpose than mere socialization, one that would draw them deeper into their own depths or connect them with God or hope or... hell, anything that mattered, if i could.

They might, like flies to a picnic, faithfully show up to enjoy the benefits of my labor, but they never joined me in my efforts. After a year of investing my time and resources into what seemed to be a battle only i cared about winning, the only fervor i had was a fervent distaste for anything that would remind me of what had once mattered so dearly to me.

Then suddenly, magically, randomly, months after i called it quits, Petra, Charity, and a few of the others decided they actually did like these get togethers. So much so, that they would get together EVEN if i didn't organize it for them. Shocking! Who would have thought?

Soon enough, they were regularly convening at my house (being attached to the location, i suppose.) Being the good sports they are, every week they would do the polite thing and invite me to join them. Every week, i would politely decline. Up until this week, i thought this system was fine, if not slightly annoying.

It's not like what they're doing is bad, bland, or boring. In fact, many of their activities are the very things i would have initiated myself back before i became so confoundedly antisocial. But i think that's what i hate about it.

Now, i know logically that i should be thrilled. It seems like - to some degree, at least - they're finally beginning to run with my ideas. I should get off my butt, tie my shoe laces and run with them, or at least bust out my wagon and let them pull me. Yet i feel a sense of disgust at the thought doing so. 

Maybe i hate it because i fought for it so long and hard but never achieved it. Maybe i hate it because they can do it without me and that's a blow to my ego. Maybe i hate it because they do so nonchalantly what i did so passionately; on a whim and for fun they do what i did with such deep conviction and intentionality.

My ego, of course, would like to believe the last of these reasons, but i realize it's likely a combination of all three - plus another dozen still unbeknownst to me.

...

I never did responded to her. Part of me wanted to turn it on her head, to remind her of how she and the rest had failed to support me when it mattered, to say the time for it had long passed. Part of me felt like i should join them. Maybe that's what my heart needed. Part of me was just tired and thought i might handle it better after a full nights rest.

This Bitter Red Sea

I see i still have a long ways ahead of me in my journey towards the healing of my perceived failures and the failures of those around me.

I just wish God would part this bitter Red Sea, leaving my heart a dry path on which to cross.