The End of a Chapter

Call me shallow, but I happened to have a drink with my former girlfriend, and found great relief in the experience. I haven't seen her in about two and a half years and enough time had gone by where I realized that if I saw her again, I wouldn't fall madly in love with her all over again, as had been the case for the first year and a half after we dated. We had some email contact a few months ago, and decided to grab a drink sometime, and that sometime was yesterday.

It was very good to see her, and though I didn't fall madly in love with her again, I saw clearly again what I had loved about her so much. We filled each other in on our lives, what we had been up to in the long time we hadn't seen each other, and eventually our discussion turned towards relationships. I told her that I had embraced the bachelor life, that I was no longer expecting to be married, and that I was done with dating websites, or even asking anyone out. (Which is true--I'm such an itinerant blogger these days that momentous decisions like that aren't blogged about. Bottom line: I'm tired of looking, so I'm giving it up, and choosing to be single. God will have to speak from a cloud or something for me to get married. The search is a pain in the ass, and I'm done.) Anyway, I asked her if she was still with the guy she had been dating when we last saw each other, and she told me that yes, indeed she was. I have to be honest, that was a bit of salt rubbed into a wound which I thought was completely healed, but the moment passed quickly enough. She then proceeded to tell me that he has been unemployed for two years, and that he was even fired from Barnes and Noble, where they had met, because, in her words, "he makes bad choices," which I interpreted as meaning that he got himself fired. For awhile, he was living with her, because he had nowhere else to go, but now is living with his aunt and uncle. The guy's 39.

I suppose it's a reflection on me that I take some satisfaction in the fact that my replacement is a loser. I had manufactured all kinds of things about this guy in my mind, and none of them are true. She didn't choose an upgrade.

I do find it sad, however, that she hasn't kicked this guy to the curb. It seems in my mind that she doesn't feel she deserves a good man, but all I can do about that is pray for her.

Online dating, take....10, maybe?

It's probably the result of the holiday single man's blues, but I decided to pull the trigger and do another online dating service, this time solely for Catholics with a rather Popish sounding name: Ave Maria Singles. I must admit, ashamedly, that I'd probably be embarrassed to share that with anyone but Catholics and my closest friends. I'd probably stick with a "Catholic online dating service." Regardless, it's a matchmaking service designed for and by Catholics, and it seems that the vast majority of members are drawn to it for the same reason: to find other Catholics who believe the fullness of Catholicism, which is the camp in which I have rather unexpectedly found myself.

We'll see how things go, but I feel that it is rather blogworthy to state that the first woman I wrote is an English teacher, and so I pulled out all of the stops with my writing, and the first words that I read in response were these: "Your writing style is absolutely delightful! I don't know many people who know what assonance is though I would have used 'arguably assonant' because, it's more and alliterative and, to me, more accurate. :)" Yes, I was able to drop the word assonant in the first email I sent to this woman, and it flowed rather naturally. That's the way to an English teacher's heart...or at least getting a response.

For some reason, she seems to think that I'm sophisticated as well. That will change when I tell her that I dropped food on the floor of the American Consulate in St. Petersburg, Russia. Thrice.

This blog of mine has collected some dust. I have been woefully inattentive, but life has been filled with a myriad of other things. I just returned from a tour of Russia, and tonight I play a world premier performance of a triple concerto for brass. Prior to that, life was filled with preparation for a recital and completion of our negotiations. It's been a very busy summer.

Today I also received an email from an eHarmony woman who has decided to move on. Not a big deal--there was very minimal interaction, but I was anticipating getting to know her on the heels of this concerto performance. I was looking forward to it quite a bit since my life has been so consumed with work related obligations.

It seems to me that all that we desire, and all of the promises of God that we long to have fulfilled are the very things God asks us to place on the altar. I believe that God has called me to a married life. Each day I hope that my wife will enter my life. There are glimmers of possibility that emerge from time to time, but for two decades, every door that has ever opened with hopeful possibility has been slammed shut. I do not understand why this is so, yet the only answer that I can find is that this is God's will.

When I think of Abraham's willingness to offer his son Isaac on the altar, the son who represented the fulfillment of God's promises to Abraham, I realize that I must follow his example. I am beginning to believe that God calls me to live in daily hope that today might be the day, but that I must place that hope on the altar each and every day. Unlike in Abraham's case, however, God doesn't always give us back what we place on the altar, at least in the way we expect, or in the same way that Isaac was given back to Abraham.

There are times when I become cynical and wish that I could excise this desire I have for companionship, since life would be easier. I believe that God has placed this desire within me, and I realize that it would be sinful to shut it down, or to eliminate the daily hope and prayer I have that I might meet my wife today. We all carry daily crosses, and I'm becoming to realize that perhaps my vocation right now is to be a man who desperately longs to be married, and nurture the hope that it will happen, while living with the possibility that it may not happen for a long time, and the subsequent disappointment that comes from actively pursuing women with the hopes that perhaps "this is the one." If that's the case, then for some divine reason, I'm better off to the Kingdom as a man who is single and longs for marriage.

Though I'd like to be married yesterday, I've read someplace before that God's ways aren't our ways.

It's very hard being patient with God. It's one thing to recognize that you are in the palm of God's hand, and to know this in a cerebral way, and to have faith that it is so. It's another thing altogether to rest in that knowledge and completely allow your desires to become wholly subservient to the will of God.

I grow impatient with God, and desire so much to be married. The longer I have lived as a bachelor, I find that there are times when I wonder if God's plans for me don't include a wife. I know that if that's the case, then I will ultimately be happiest and most fulfilled by remaining single, but the death of the dream to be married would be a long and painful one. I sometimes muse that perhaps if God's will is for me to be married, maybe I'll only be married when it becomes irrelevant to me whether I become married or not, because at that point I would have learned to trust in God's plans for me in this area completely and fully.

I'm not sure if I'm man enough to do that, however. I take comfort in the knowledge that God knows our weaknesses, and He knows what my desires are, and He indeed knows that though I wish to leave it all completely in His hands, that I have a very hard time doing it.

I'm accustomed to this single life, and I don't really wish to remain so, but on days like today, it seems very conceivable to me that this will perhaps be my lot in life. I hope not, but God's will be done, right? Even if I'm wrestling with Him, and myself, while I say it.

I do believe this: that I'm supposed to be single right now, since I am. It's clearly God's will for me, even if I don't like. God help me, but I don't like it.

I'm a very happy man right now. Remarkably so, and at times, overwhelmingly so. I suppose it's a good place to be when you wish you could turn the "happy" down a bit. I'm walking around with a perpetual grin on my face, which is sort of uncontrollable. I think I'm wired to feel the highs and lows of life quite intensely and right now I sort of am overwhelmed by the mountain top, and for that, I'm grateful.

I have no idea where things with Sarah will lead. They hold much promise, but any future we may have together is completely in God's control, and in His hands. But whatever may come, I have been blessed by finally being able to believe that there is indeed the possibility of finding someone in the world who is a better match for me than Meg. I thought for the longest time that this was an impossibility. In one short month, however, with Sarah, I have discovered the truth that this isn't so. I don't believe that this is a sign of the flightiness of my thinking, but rather is more an indication of the quality of Sarah. I believe indeed that is a very difficult thing to find someone that I could love more than Meg, because my love for her was so profound.

Over the past few weeks, I have been thinking quite a bit about what God said to me, when I cried out to Him one night, asking and wondering why after so many years God brought me Meg and not my wife. His answer to me was this: Meg came into your life to prepare you for your wife." On the one other occasion when I know that I heard God's voice, He said to me, "I can't wait to show you the ending--you're going to love it!"

I've clung to that promise for a long time, wondering when it might come to pass. I do not mean to suggest that I have "found the one." It's far too early for that, and indeed, that's up to God too. With Sarah, though, I have been given hope that there is "the one" out there. I've often thought that I will never marry a woman until I reach a point where I rejoice that I didn't get married to any other woman who came before. I've doubted, and wondered, whether I could ever reach that point, but now I have hope.

In the anthology, Echoing Silence, Thomas Merton writes, "when God promises to answer our prayers, He does not promise to give us exactly what we ask for. But we can always be certain that if He does not give us that, it is because He has something much better to give us instead. That is what is meant by Christ's promise that we will receive all that we ask in His name."

I prayed that I would marry Meg. That didn't happen. I have had to trust that this was so because God has something much better in store for me. I have had to cling to this with mere faith. Now it seems to me to actually be possible, and it is something that I can cling to with a belief bolstered by evidence, all because of the gift of Sarah.

I do not know if she is the woman God desires for me, and honestly don't even want to be concerned with that. It's far too early, as I said before, and right now, I want to enjoy getting to know her, without those concerns weighing over us. What I do know is this: I have finally seen past Meg, and that is a gift. Still a bittersweet one, but I know that the bitter in this realization will fade away, and I will rejoice that we went our separate ways. And for now, there is a new woman, Sarah, to delight in. For that, I am grateful.

Tax Time

As I write this, I'm taking a break from a late night spent working on my taxes in preparation for a visit from my CPA tomorrow morning. Of course, I've waited until the literal last minute to get the work done, but I don't mind staying up late, with wine and some great tunes playing. Each year during tax season, as I go through receipts from the previous year I feel like an archaeologist, slowly unveiling the only tangible evidence of events from the previous year. As the layers of the year go by, there are memories of trips, of meals and of events that appear before me. I just stumbled on a receipt from flowers that I sent to Meg back in July. With that receipt came a flood of memories and emotions, but as I think about what this week has held, I realize that a year from now, I'll be looking at receipts from the week before Valentine's Day, 2009, and have memories of a different woman. For that, I'm grateful. And I think I'll have another glass of wine as I think about the possibilities, and the beauty that comes from the passage of time.

(Here's hoping that I'll have a huge tax return too!)

I think I may have found a girlfriend.

Ups and Downs...and Ups!

I think anyone who peeks in at my blog from time to time easily sees the contours of the hills and valleys of my life. A few posts ago I spent some time in a valley where the landscape was disappointingly familiar to me, another wrong turn ending in a dead end where instead I had hoped to find the promised land of companionship.

Thankfully, there's always another path to trod, more roads to explore, and days filled with new opportunities. I'm happy to say that I've begun seeing a woman named Sarah. We went out for a drink and an appetizer last Saturday after spending quite a bit of time getting to know each other on eHarmony. For our first date, we joked about meeting early enough so we didn't have to wait around in the lobby for who knows how long, which is always uncomfortable on a first date. I told her that for us to just commit to an appetizer, neither of us would feel "trapped," and I said, "you know what I'm talking about, right? Those moments when you're just waiting until you can bail on the date?" She laughed, and said she knew exactly what I was talking about, and appreciated the option of keeping things short.

Soon into our date, it became quite clear that neither of us was feeling trapped, so a few glasses of wine later, and dinner and dessert, we found that we had been there for three and a half hours. We decided we didn't want the date to end, so we headed to a coffee shop and were there until a half hour after closing. All told, our date lasted five hours and it felt much shorter than that.

We spoke last night on the phone for a couple of hours, and tonight for quite a bit and made plans to get together again on Thursday night.

Life right now is absolutely fantastic. I'm going to enjoy the ride, and enjoy the opportunity God has given me to get to know a wonderful woman, who's as interested in getting to know me as I am in getting to know her, and leave it all up into God's hands as to where things go. For now, there's no question that I'm falling for an adorable woman named Sarah Marie.

And on Thursday...I'm bringing her chocolates.

Me: happy.

Disharmony

So I'm on eHarmony again. Recently, in response to a comment where I mentioned that I crashed at some friends' house, a woman who held much appeal to me asked me if I crashed there because of drinking. When I told her that yes, I had been drinking, but that no, I wasn't drunk, but that indeed I have been drunk in my life, and that that I will probably be drunk again, at some point in my life, though it is a very rare occurrence, she decided to end our correspondence. Things had been going swimmingly, and we had discussed many deep and interesting topics.

I just don't get that Christian prohibition against alcohol, at all.

It's not fair to the other ones...

Let's just be honest here: you can only fall for a woman so much when you're constantly thinking to yourself that you wish that the woman sitting across from you was a different woman.

Argh! Is it possible to get some sort of procedure to expunge feelings for someone who has chosen not to be in your life?

Bah-humbug! (And heavy sigh...)

Duo Ubera

I've been reading a very good book sent to me by Mark M., of Hillsdale County fame, called Interior Freedom, by the French author Jacques Philippe. It's a short book filled with profound wisdom about attaining what seems so illusive to most of us.

I sit in my living room, late into the evening, reflecting on what I have read in the book, accompanied by the music of Giovanni Palestrina, with no light other than five candles. I'm in a contemplative mood and I keep thinking about a passage in the book that speaks to the freedom that comes from accepting those things which we would never have chosen. Philippe writes, "when we are adolescents our lives seem to stretch before us with a broad range of possibilities to choose from; but as time goes by, that range will get progressively narrower. We have to make choices, and the options we select reduce the number of possibilities left open." He writes about the modern notion of freedom, reflected in a desire to see life as a marketplace of infinite choices spread before us and points out the repercussions this brings to our lives. He points out that for so many of us today, we "put off making a final choice, because choice is perceived as a loss of freedom." The result? People who desire continual choices "don't dare decide and never actually live!" And then he writes these words that ring so true: "Yet life chooses for them anyway, since time passes inexorably."

Very few of us can look back on our lives and say that our lives are what we would have chosen them to be. Life chose for us, and we are now living as a result of time and its inexorable passing. In my life, there are so many issues which are things that I would never have chosen but they are my lot. I am no different than any other man in this regard, and if anyone is even an occasional reader of this blog, they will know that the one area in my life that I would not have chosen is to be an unmarried man at age 38.

I have attempted to come to terms with my single state. I work towards saying to God, "Thy will be done," but underlying that very prayer is the keen desire that God's will would be that I be married, and soon, and to one woman in particular. Then there are moments of fear and trepidation that perhaps God's will is for me to be single the rest of my life, and if that is the case, the only thing I can pray for is my daily bread. There is a constant stream of uncertainty that flows through my life and I realized tonight that what I desire more than anything is to simply know: to know if I will ever be married, with children, or if I will be single the rest of my life. This continual state of not knowing is a hard place to be.

As I sit here late in the evening tonight, reflecting on the words I have been reading, reflecting on a week of dates with two different women, reflecting on a week that was marked by seeing Meg again, hoping with the vain hope that only a man consumed with love can know, hoping that she would return to me after hearing me profess my undying and unfailing love to her again with all the eloquence I could muster, yet knowing beforehand what her answer would be, I realize that time has passed inexorably before me. And I have not chosen the path that I find myself on, yet it is my life.

Where is the freedom in this perpetual state of not knowing? I have often felt that my life would change if I could only know this: will I be married or single? To know that I will be married would allow me to wait with calm and steady patience; knowing that I will be single would allow me to steel my resolve and embrace the single life completely, without the constant bombardment of torturous hope that assails me every day. Sometimes I feel like C.S. Lewis in the Shadowlands, in the scene where he is reading in the library during the end of winter, and he says that he detests the "in between time," where it is neither winter or spring. I feel like I'm in a perpetual "in between time" and I want to know if it's going to be winter or spring. If I could but know what my future holds! But that is not our lot, and it has never been any man's lot. As Richard Russo has written, "Lives are like rivers. Eventually they go where they must, not where we want them to." Time passes inexorably.

So what are we to do? Tonight I am weary of the perpetual hope of knowing. What I have come to realize is that it doesn't matter where we are in our lives, we will always not know. We will not know what tomorrow brings, we will not know if we will suddenly become ill, or if our parents will die in a car crash on their way home from Italy. We will not know if our job will be there tomorrow, or if the ones we love will return our love. What we do know, and the only thing we can know, is that we are loved and cherished by God, and all that happens to us is for the betterment of our soul, as I learned from a blind Carthusian in the film Into Great Silence. This "in between time," then, is my lot now, because it is for the betterment of my soul.

Jacques Philippe writes these words, which I feel warrant much reflection:

It is natural and easy to go along with pleasant situations that arise without our choosing them. It becomes a problem, obviously, when things are unpleasant, go against us, or make us suffer. But it is precisely then that, in order to become truly free, we are often called to choose to accept what we did not want, and even what we would not have wanted at any price. There is a paradoxical law of human life here: one cannot become truly free unless one accepts not always being free!

May God help me to embrace the freedom that comes from accepting those things that I would not have wanted at any price.

(Go listen to Duo Ubera by Giovanni Palestrina. Do it. Now. Your life will be better for doing so.)

Where have all the men gone?

So I just went on a date tonight with a woman who was recently engaged to be married...to a real A-class, numero uno self-absorbed, narcissistic jerk. Leaving your sick fiancee asleep in O'Hare airport, while you get on the plane you're both supposed to be on together isn't acceptable behavior.

Are there a lot of men like that out in the world?

Unbelievable.

The Woman Front

So I'm going on a date Thursday night. Surprise, surprise, especially on the heels of that last post. And more than that: I'll be going out with a second woman either this week or next as well, a woman who I met a couple of years ago and reconnected with just this past week. And there's even a third woman who someone is hoping to set me up with. I'll be emailing her in the morning.

We'll see what happens. There's just a slight problem: I seem to still be in love with my ex-girlfriend, even though it's been well over two years since we dated. I spoke with a wise friend and counselor of mine this week about Meg and I said that I find it hard to believe that I could ever love a woman more than I love Meg. I told him that I have felt that when indeed I could love a woman more than I love Meg, I would know I've found my future wife. He told me that it's quite possible that I would never love a woman more than I love Meg. I had never considered that possibility before but I realize that it may very well be true. I hope not, but if I use my love for Meg as the benchmark of whether or not someone else is worth marrying, I don't know if I would ever marry. And part of me thinks that if I can't find someone that I love more than Meg, I'd rather be single.

I suppose that all sounds rather melodramatic, but it's exactly where my heart is tonight.

Musings on Women and Dating

I received an email today that I feared would come. As I live my life as a bachelor, wondering when and if God will bring me a wife, I often think about the women I encounter who most certainly are asking the same question. Throughout my life I seem to attract occasional attention from women who are hopeful that I might ask them out, or who seem to hope that there might be a chance for a relationship with me. I'm reminded of a passage in Elisabeth Elliot's book, A Path Through Loneliness where a woman writes that God somehow had created a hedge of protection around her. She didn't necessarily like it, but it resulted in God protecting her from any romantic entanglements because, as she put it, all the men she was interested in didn't seem to know she existed, while the ones who were interested in her weren't her type. I feel the same way about most of my life and most of the women who have expressed interest in me. They're just not my type.

I saw a woman at our opera production this weekend who I used to know at one of the colleges I taught at for awhile. It was clear then that she was interested in me, and I think the fact that I made a point to say hello to her and catch up with her this past weekend caused her to think about the possibility again. I just received an email, hopeful that we could get together sometime, that she felt it was unfortunate that we hadn't had enough time to chat, etc.

I'm not going to do that because I don't want to send her the wrong signal. But I know she feels the pain of loneliness just as acutely as I ever have, probably more. It's not my job or anyone's job to salve that pain however. In fact, to get together with her because I know her pain would actually be a disservice. The answer for her, and for me, and for anyone, is to turn to Christ. That's why I think Elliot's book is so, so brilliant. If you know anyone who is single, divorced, widowed are is just struggling with what God wants to do in his or her life during this time of loneliness, have them read this book. It's amazing and powerful.

I also have decided I don't like it when women initiate things with me. That's my job, not theirs. Elisabeth Elliot writes about this too--if a woman initiates anything with me, that's a surefire sign that I'm not biting, ever. My job is to be the pursuer and the initiator and I don't want any woman to usurp that role from me. I think most men feel this way, or at least men who know what their God-ordained role as a man needs to be. Elisabeth Elliot speaks of this in her books on relationships, The Mark of a Man, Passion and Purity, and the latest book I read of hers, Quest for Love: True Stories of Passion and Purity. Incidentally, I hate the cover the latest edition of The Mark of a Man. It's hogwash, since the model they used is a GQesque model, perpetuating the mythic status of what the world thinks a man should be. Notice below the new cover compared to the original. Elisabeth Elliot wrote the book to her nephew, who is pictured with her on the front cover of the old book. Nothing spectacular about either of them--they are real people. Notice the chiseled features of the guy in the new edition. The very cover of the book is in direct conflict with all that Elisabeth Elliot writes in her book. I fall short of that sort of worldy ideal, and so I ripped the cover off of the book, (in admittedly Dan M. fashion). I'd prefer to be like Elisabeth Elliot's nephew Peter than this GQ guy, though I of course sure wish I was more handsome. But that's the lie of the world, isn't it? Shame on Revell for succumbing to worldy marketing in selling their book. They should have a picture of dowdy C.S. Lewis on the cover instead of this yahoo, who probably needs what's written on the inside of the book as much as anyone. Genes don't make a man a man.

Out of the Comfort Zone

I had one thing that I needed to do before I stop "doing the right things" in regards to finding a woman to share my life with. Last week I went to a local watering hole with my buddy Dave P. and I was completely smitten by our server, and I had the guts to tell her so. I screwed up the courage to ask her out, but she demurred somewhat and told me to put my number down and that she would decide to call or not.

I've been thinking about her quite a bit. She hasn't called, but I wanted her to know that I was in earnest. Dave told me that I needed to go back by myself, so I steeled my resolve tonight to do just that, but I decided to write her a letter as well. I didn't know if I'd see her or not, and even if I did, I figured a handwritten letter on on some really nice cotton stationery is something your average woman doesn't receive very often. Besides, in that sort of context, I'd rather rely on my written word than extemporaneous stammerings.

I almost didn't go in, because I felt silly, but I did anyway since I told myself that the best things in life have only happened to me when I've taken risks. Once I got in, I sidled up to that bar and had a couple of beers and contemplated how to close the deal and pass on the letter. I saw her once, and I think she saw me, and of course I manufactured a million reasons in my mind why she was freaking out that I was there. The whole time I was trying to figure out how to pass on the letter to her if I saw her again. All in all I was pretty uncomfortable thinking about why I had come, half ready to turn on my heels and walk out the door and burn the letter when I got home.

After awhile I started to get chatty with one of the other waitresses who kept coming up to the bar to fill her orders. I made her chuckle a few times and I began to formulate a plan in my mind. I figured that she could be my accomplice, so I worked on her a little more, chatting with her every time she came up. After I paid my bill, I waited for the right moment and asked her if she'd do a favor for me. I must have appeared conspiratorial because she leaned in really close and said yes. I told her she should only say yes after she heard what I was going to request. I then proceeded to tell her that I was in last week and had a server by the name of (get this...) Meghan, and that I was immediately smitten by her. I told her that I was sort of a hopeless romantic and that I had written her a letter, and wondered if she would mind passing it on to Meghan when she saw her. I told her that now I was embarrassed, and that at least they'd all have something to talk about tonight, but she agreed to pass the note on. I have to think it added a little excitement to an otherwise ordinary evening. I don't think it's every night that someone drops off a note like that, and if I know anything about women, they like the thought of something like that being done, even if nothing comes of it. I would imagine every woman would enjoy a random guy writing them a note like that, even if there was never any interest in the one who penned the letter. And that's what I said in the letter, that even if she wasn't interested in me, that I hoped receiving a letter like this would brighten her day. I told her she was beautiful and adorable, and that she should never forget it. I figure that's a nice letter to receive, even if she never calls.

I'm not holding my breath, but I'm glad I passed it on rather than turning on my heels and going home with my tail between my legs. It's out of my hands now, but all that matters is that I did it.

Well, I'm off tonight for a blind date. I almost bailed since I've been glued to the bathroom for most of the day. The tsunami in my bowels has subsided for the most part, but since we're going to an arena football game with a huge group, I realize that's a huge time commitment and a place where bathrooms are probably few and far away. I'm going, and keeping my fingers crossed.

I've got two posts I'm working on, one about finding the woman I'm supposed to marry. The gist of it is that I'm tired of the search and ready to pray that she finds me. Who knows what could happen tonight--this is a woman from the United Way who's interested in me. She apparently likes the idea of a man who makes chocolates. I know nothing about her, but at least this is a step in the right direction.

Off to watch football, perhaps my least favorite activity on the planet. I hope she's cute.

Dan's Confectionery

Well, it's been a long, but productive day. I have almost five finished products that came off the assembly line today: white chocolate malt truffles, peppermint stick bark, mint chocolate oreo bark, brittle/chocolate bark (using the leftover brittle from the truffles) and almond rochers, terrific almond/milk chocolate cookie things. Besides these there was the caramel debacle that needs a do-over though I don't think that's going to happen this year. Tomorrow's going to be busy too since I've got a few more things planned. Most of all, I'm itching to try my hand at making peppermint patties, the recipe that got me headed down this direction in the first place.

I've put a lot of time into these things, and I'm realizing that making your own chocolates ain't cheap either. I'm beginning to rethink my plans. When I think about how much time and energy I've expended on these things, I realize that I want them to go mainly to my family and my closest friends. I think I'll whip up some Chocolate Mint Explosion cookies for my colleagues, along with some pecan cookies. I want the people who I love the most to have my chocolates!

Oh, and I forgot to mention something that happened yesterday. I've got my eye on somebody, a woman I met yesterday. Talking with her was the first time in a year and a half I've actually been able to say, "Meg who?" That's a good sign, even if the woman doesn't say yes to coffee. But I have a feeling she will. At least I'm hoping. She works at a gourmet store that I really enjoy and we were able to strike up a conversation after she helped me find something. It turns out her family owns the place. I'm thinking that kind of woman would be perfect for me, don't you think? Anyway, we seemed to get along and I'll definitely be asking her out. And here's a bonus: she's really, really cute too. I'll let you know what happens.

Life Stuff

It was a beautiful day here, sunny and very warm, rare for this time of year. It was fantastic, but of course as is usually the case on beautiful Sundays, I was working. If you ever want to schedule an event on a Sunday, and you need good weather, check with me--if I'm working, you're guaranteed to have a nice day. It actually wasn't so bad for me though, since in the middle of the performance I had about 50 minutes off, so I left the pit and went for a walk outside along the river. It felt like a July day, and everywhere you looked people were out and about, walking their dogs, strolling with their family, riding some skateboards or going for a bike ride. We all know this is the calm before the storm and that nice weather like this needs to be taken advantage of.

For me though, everywhere I looked I saw couples out walking together, hand in hand, enjoying each other's company. That's all I seem to see these days. Whenever I go to church, I always seem to sit behind some happy couples, where the woman's arm is always rubbing the back of her boyfriend, where they'll whisper things to each other throughout the service, or they'll be holding hands the whole time. It's very distracting for me, but it seems to be a constant wherever I go.

On the way home today, I had a brief flash of a moment where I had a sense that someone was waiting for me at home, and I was happy. Of course it was some bizarre mirage stirred up by my subconscious desire for someone to be there and showed me in a very poignant way how much I long for someone to be there, waiting for me. It's awful to come home to an empty house.

I then headed to a difficult meeting with our negotiating committee, which I've been elected to. It entailed me confronting a colleague about some things which caused me serious concern, and it was awkward, uncomfortable and very stressful. Driving away, I just wanted someone I could talk to about it with, and to be able to debrief about it with someone. I'm on my own though, and just have to deal with it. I so envy the married.

Following the meeting, I went over to some colleagues from work for dinner. I had helped them out quite a bit earlier in the year with some things and they wanted to show me their appreciation by cooking dinner for me. As I sat there chatting with them and having dinner, I found myself longing to have someone there by my side too, to have a wife who would join me for such things. As the two of them chatted, invariably things came up that involved them doing things together, or making decisions together. They relayed how they've been establishing traditions for Thanksgiving that are becoming important to them as a couple, traditions that they want to create for their children, when they have them. The more I heard them talk, the more the empty chair beside me became a crushing void that weighed heavily on my heart and could not be ignored.

If you're married, don't ever, ever take your spouse for granted. The next time you see them, hug them, kiss them, and tell them how much better your life is with them, and that you thank God for them. Do it.

Meg

I've been thinking of writing a cathartic post about what happened last Sunday, but I don't feel I have it in me, and maybe I don't need to. Suffice it to say that the woman whom I thought was my soul mate rejected me, telling me she no longer had any vision or hope of us ever sharing a life together, or that she felt any romantic inclination towards me at all, despite the fact that she believes that she'll never find anyone in her life who will love her more than I. That is very, very hard to hear, and even harder to understand, and all so painful.

Talk of being just friends entered the conversation, and I told her that I hoped to one day be big enough to be a friend to her, without feeling turmoil over it. We left it that I would call her when I felt I could do so.

As I've lived and dealt with this over the past few days, it became imminently clear to me that it was not possible for me to be "just friends" with her. I thought of sending her a letter to communicate this, with the suggestion that in a year we could have coffee and see if that was possible then. Sending the letter didn't feel right to me though. When I left her last Sunday, though it was painful, it wasn't goodbye or farewell, and I didn't want to do that through a letter. I called Meg up, letting her know what my thoughts were on being friends, telling her that I think I needed at least a year with no contact with her. She said that sounded like such a long time. We both are sad at the prospect. She asked me if she ever thought I could be friends with her, and I told her that I hoped so, but that I had no idea. What we did agree on is that we wanted a proper goodbye and farewell, in person. She's coming over on Saturday. I think it will be very hard, but I want to be able to say goodbye to her in person, and give her one last hug.

I do love that woman so.

Jane Austen

Of late, I've been dealing with matters of the heart and it makes me wish that I was in the pages of a Jane Austen novel. If I was, unfortunately I suspect I'm not yet approaching the final pages, though I feel that the story potentially could turn into a real page burner.

Here's the rub: There's no turning to the end to see what happens. I'm in the middle of the story, and I fret because I worry about what's next. As I sit and contemplate my life, and what the next chapter holds, I have been faced with the fact that I'm not very good at trusting God. Ultimately though, in the face of uncertainty and anxiety about the future, I realize that's the only thing I have left. On a trip to the U.P. last week, my brother urged me to think about this: peace is from God, all the rest isn't. He challenged me to continually take any angst I feel to God and cling to peace. It's something that I realize I need practice at, but even so, I have felt the beginnings of peace about this situation (which I will expound upon more at length later). My brother urged me to also listen, not just pray, and as I sat in my backyard today, trying to listen, this image of a Jane Austen novel came to mind. In my very less than perfect way, I offered to entrust my future to God, acknowledging that I needed help even doing that. What came to mind was the image of God, zealously inviting me to trust in him, to allow him the freedom to write each page as he saw fit. It was an invitation given with the intensity of a race horse at the starting gate, itching to run free, and I felt that these were his words to me:

"I can't wait to show you the ending. You're gonna love it."

As I sit here in the middle pages, I don't know if this story will end the way I wish it will, but it seems to me that if the author of the universe is penning the story, well, I think the ending's in good hands. May I feel so strongly as this if the end of the chapter I'm in now doesn't turn out the way I hope.