God's Thoughts on Addictive Personalities.

Today's topic was a difficult one to face. The question Libby posed was, "What is the last thing God showed you about yourself?" That's hard, isn't it? God's always showing us things about ourselves, and most of the time (in my case, anyway), they aren't necessarily lovely things. Sure, He reminds me on a daily basis that I'm worthy of His grace, that I'm loved by amazing people, and that I'm created in His image. But as far as my actual character goes, I feel like God usually is looking down at me, smiling shyly and laughing to Himself, thinking, "C'mon, Rach. You're almost there, but not quite."

So I digress and make the following point: God teaches me a lot of things. I don't always recognize them until it's too late. That would be the case regarding the most recent lesson I've learned. Usually I consider this a blessing but sometimes, like right now, I view it as a curse: I love people. I could probably be with people all the time if that were acceptable. I have an addictive personality, and I don't hesitate at packing my schedule full of playdates with friends. I've even been known to move into friends' homes without asking permission first because I love spending time with people too much (see the previous post re: 21228 Pacific Coast Highway).

As I said, I typically view this appreciation of others as an asset. However, I've noticed the toll this particularly "addiction" (if you will) is taking on me since I've moved to Dallas. I didn't really know anyone when I moved here. I've been spending my time reconnecting with former classmates at Pepperdine or meeting with friends of friends. I've loved the adventures I've had while I've met new people. I've consumed too much fried food at the Texas State Fair, jammed to U2 at the new Cowboys stadium, reveled in the bliss of Mambo Taxis from Mi Cocina, danced to wedding tunes in the small town of Sherman, cheered on the Cowboys (though secretly rooting for the Bears) while nursing a beer, and sipped on vanilla chai at hole-in-the-wall cafes throughout the city. The point is, I've been busy. And while that's largely due to the fact that I love people, it's also related to the fact that I am afraid of being alone. And now, on this Thursday night, I find myself absolutely exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

I'm not afraid of an empty apartment, or of the dark. Instead, I guess it's that I'm anxious when I don't have plans or commitments. I think it's because society teaches us that busyness is equivalent to success or worth. Add that to my love for people and it's not so surprising that I have distaste for being alone. I think the other component that factors in is that it's much easier to spend time alone when you know that have a community of friends than when you're unsure of whether or not that's true. Don't get me wrong--the friends I've met here are amazing. But I've only been in Dallas for six weeks, and it's obvious that my best friends still all live in California. I feel the need to make plans so that I can eventually establish the community I'm seeking in Dallas that is just like the one I had in Los Angeles (and San Francisco and San Diego).

What God is teaching me, though, is that I must find my worth, my value, and my peace in Him. While He has blessed me with amazing people who demonstrate His love for me on a daily basis, He's asking me to be content with him, trusting that the community I desire will fall into place according to His timing.

Tonight I decided to take a break from my whirlwind schedule. I got a manicure and pedicure, took a hot shower, made a spinach pizza, drank white wine, and enjoyed the newest episodes of "The Office." And for the first time in awhile, I felt relaxed and at peace. Here alone in my loft with nothing on the agenda, just hanging out, me and God. And Michael Scott.