Immediately as I title this, it comes to me that I belong here more than anywhere else. that is to say, I feel better loved and understood here than anywhere else. It may be just my desire, but that feeling is real.
I don’t belong, in general. I didn’t belong in high school, and over many jobs in my adult life, belonging is something rare. The places I belonged are gone, possibly forever. Those jobs, those communities are dead. Some of the people are dead too.
Anyway, one of my mentors posted a thing about my generation, and why we don’t click with church. I wrote a response, explaining that it isn’t an issue of faith, but of inner conflict. Belonging to a community to me would imply that I would try to stay with them. For a church, that would mean staying in this city, where all the ghosts of my past are still active.
Then I went outside and mowed the lawn. It was deep with clover, kinda hurt my heart to mow but it has to be done…. and an old lady comes up and invites me to a local church, on Easter… and here I’m wondering “Is that you God?”, the timing is weird, rarely do I get invited to church.
I’m also seriously considering a new career. Which might mean staying here as well…. belonging in a place that has been so cruel to me. Does this city deserve a redemption arc? I don’t see it, but maybe it does.
I’ve compared where I live to an alcoholic parent. I have loved it, and it has loved me. The harm though has left deep wounds. There have been many times I have considered walking away, finding a place that wants to be cared for. If such a place even exists, I remind myself that cruelty and bigotry are not just here, but many other places.
Which comes back to the question; how can someone like me belong? More to the point, how can the place I live expect me to forgive it? If this city has a soul, how can anyone not see how damned and hopeless it is?
Then again, maybe I’m damned too. Sometimes I wonder if I really deserve this god forsaken life. Maybe. Maybe.