Wild Flowers

I've been here now, almost 3 months.  I realize that is a short amount of time to be somewhere and to expect great things but I still do.  I walk into my children's school and I'm still not warmly received.  In fact I'd say some of the ladies in the office have it in for me.  Just once, a smile would be nice.  It's never a question of who'll I'll run into at the store, or the park, or, at my mailbox because I won't be running into a familiar face.  And our congregation is very kind and outgoing but it still leaves room for many awkward moments. 
I just returned from an evening for women at church.  A nice evening with mini-classes on how-to fix drain plugs and put out fires and what to do in a city chemical emergency.  A nice evening where I felt very out of place, very much the wild flower up against the wall.  It's where I sit and try not to look out of place -  not wanting to interrupt conversations, afraid to break into standing friendships.   The women must sense my anxiety and they sit down next to me and speak to me and ask me how I'm doing but I couldn't shake the sickening feeling in my gut and the instinct to run: eat the refreshment faster and slip out.

There are days when I wish there was someone I could fall into a conversation with, without first discussing the weather or how I'm liking this town.  Someone who I know a little more than a first name basis, and who knows, me.

Not choosing to be alone, but finding myself uncomfortably alone in a crowd, makes me very aware of just how many dear friends I left behind.  Makes me miss them a little more; ache for the closest ones.  It's one of those "without the pain, wouldn't know the joy" moments in life.  (sigh)