Open the eyes of my heart, Lord

So I know that *technically* I already posted an update today, but it was a pretty crappy post and I have a lot more to say now - so I'm going to try it again. I went to the night service at University Pres tonight and *sigh* it just didn't feel right. Honestly, it reminded me a whole hell of a lot of the PSC at UGA, but I'm not a college student and that's not what I need right now. And to be fair - I wasn't crazy outgoing but they weren't particularly friendly either. The only people that went out of their way to talk to me were the minister (who spoke a total of about 3 sentences to me) and this one UT freshman from Mexico. And I didn't see a single person out of college. Not one.

Of course the real slap in the face was realizing that the PSC might have seemed like that to outsiders when I was there. I was part of the core of that place right from the getgo. I've never seen it from this side. And it's healthy in certain ways... to be made aware - but it also kind of sucks because that's not really what I'm looking for.

And Central Pres last week was super-friendly, but it didn't feel right either. I was the youngest and most single by what... 6 years? More? Where the heck are all the Presbyterian 22 year-olds in this world? Because they're certainly not in Austin, Texas. They have to be out there - somewhere - because they existed when I'm was 16... and 20... they have to exist now. They can't just disappear.

I'm frustrated. I get that I was a little slow in trying to get on the church bandwagon out here but I'm trying - and I'm not having a whole lot of luck. I don't even know where to look next. I feel like either too old, or too young, or too liberal, or too conservative for every place out here. And I'm constantly surrounded by these people who call themselves Christian but don't believe anything like what I do - and I just want to find people that understand where I'm coming from.

And I get that it's supposed to be hard, but here's the thing - it never has been. Not for me. For as far back as I can remember, I have been a part of a loving, caring, fiercely faithful church family at St. Luke's. And it hasn't always been perfect - not by a long shot - but it has always, always been mine. Growing up, I changed houses, and schools, and friends - and even my relationship with my parents changed - but St. Luke's was *always* there. A rock. And yeah - it's changed over the years, but I've changed with it. We grew together. St. Luke's - more than anywhere else in my entire life - was home.

And then I went to college and I put off finding a Faith community there for nearly 2 years because I was scared that nothing could live up to what I had in St. Luke's. And then I finally went to the Presbyterian Student Center, and 15 seconds after I walked in the door - I knew I was home. It was - truly - that easy. And when - years later - things got rough at the PSC, I could always go home to St. Luke's and find that center again.

But now... now I'm a thousand miles away. And the PSC has transformed into whatever it is without me, and St. Luke's is changing again - in bigger ways than I've ever seen - and here's the thing - I'm not there to change with it. I'm changing in my own way at here in Texas. St. Luke's and I are spinning in different directions and when I see it again, it won't be the home that I remember.

And I'm trying to deal with that, I am trying to take it in stride - but it's hard - because I don't have anything here to turn to. CoFo is great, and the people are great and I love them. But at the end of the day - it is still just a job. A place where I work as an employee. Not a family. Not a home.

I feel like I'm just freefalling out here. I need a place to call home. I remember what it was like for that year and a half at Georgia - before the PSC. When I thought my individual faith in God was enough to sustain me. When I wrote off the value of a Faith community in favor of my own resilience. I remember the emptiness and the struggle - and I remember my mother suggesting that perhaps that unhappiness, that hole inside me came from the sudden lack in a family of Faith. At first I didn't believe her. But there was that night in Guatemala all those years ago - that amazing eye-opening moment when I realized exactly what was missing. I don't want to go back to that. I don't want to feel it again.

I'm out here and I'm breaking my rules and terrifying myself and that's all fine and good but I need to find a home. I need to know where to look.

You know, you may think I'm crazy - but I've felt God speak to me three times in my life. The first time - I was struggling to figure out where I would go for college and I could not make up my mind. I prayed and prayed for guidance - and one night - I heard it. A gentle whisper but impossible to ignore. It said "be patient." I wasn't. I told my parents I wanted to go to UGA two days later. I have no idea what would have happened if I'd waited.

But my freshman year, I heard God again. I was wandering the parking lot outside of my dorm late one night, feeling alone and isolated and lost. And in all my typical dramaticness I looked up at the sky and I cried out, "If you care so much, why aren't you here? Why aren't you down here with me, making it better?" I felt it then, deep inside me. I felt His longing to do just that - to be down here walking with us - to embrace us with his own arms. I felt it and I knew it to be true.

And several years later, I lead a retreat for my PSC group, and we had our Sunday morning worship service on the edge of a beautiful lake. And as everyone walked away after it was over, I stayed - looking out at the water - seaching for God. And He was there and he said to me "Lo, I am with you always."

So you see, I know He is here with me. I know that He has blessed me with a lifetime of comfortable, steadfast Faith community. I know that I have been far luckier than most. But I also feel that loss all the more acutely now, and I don't know how to diminish it. I want to find a new church home, but I don't know how. And then I find myself asking - why bother? I'm not in this place for the long haul - 10 months at least - but 2 years at the longest. If this search is meant to be so laborious, why even put in the effort to look? Were I lucky enough to find a place - I'd leave it too in time.

Still I search. Open my eyes, that I may see.