one holy church

After eight months of almost-faithful church attendance, I am finally fricking beginning to make friends.

It had gotten to the point where I was muttering grouchily under my breath as I located "church clothes," located car keys, and located familiar routes to get there of a Sunday morning, because however much I might enjoy the Sunday School discussions or the services, I knew hardly anyone would talk to me, except Chris-with-a-House who would tell me the latest tragedy of his life. (Today he came up behind me during the greeting time to tell me, without preamble, that he'd gotten hit in the face this morning doing something or other. Actually there was a preamble. He asked me if he looked like he'd been hit in the face recently. To which the obligatory answer is, "Well your nose is swollen, why, did you get hit in the face recently?" while you grit your teeth preparing for the obvious reply.)

It's just not a terribly social group. Eric Born pointed out that the Midwest is largely peopled by people who have lived there all their lives and don't need to look for new friends; they've had the same friends since kindergarten. (This is one of the reasons I left North East.) Sunday School was full of good discussion, but afterward the only real overtures I got were from Sweet and Hyperactive Amanda (which was welcome, I think she's adorable) and a fakey oh-we're-both-cornered-in-the-same-vicinity-I-should-croon-and-hug-you embrace from a girl who is consistently more closed-off than I am. (Gah, the Midwest.)

Just as I was marching into the sanctuary with a great big scowl on my face (and thinking, "I do NOT like your family, Lord"), a girl whom I actually, really like came dashing over to say hi, to invite me to hang out with her this week, to invite me to hang out with her and some of her friends this weekend, and to ask if she could sit by me during the service. I felt my jaw muscles slowly relax. That's a welcome.

This is Amy, the girl who shares a love for yerba mate and The Lord of the Rings. She's also ridiculously tall and uninhibited -- how better?

So all is not lost. I think I'll continue to attend this church for awhile, if only to see whether or not germinating seeds grow. (And I'll bet God spends a good deal of time grinning at me going, "See? I told you so.")