Early AM excess

I love my church.

To be clear, what I mean by church is the organization (Northpoint Community Church) that creates environments that promote a closer and growing relationship with God. As an aside, this is different from the biblical definition of the church (which is nothing more than the gathering of believers in Jesus). Anywho, one of the environments I find so rich is this thing called summer gathering.

It's a monday night event that usually involves the organized arriving at Buckhead Church in the 7:30 time frame. The general age tends to be early 20s with fair deviation both ways. Further, there's usually a band that facilitates the singing of praises to God and a gentleman by the name of Brad who usually shares something profound. There's even time for students to respond to God by breaking out into discussion groups at the conclusion of the night. Conversations are usually hilarious but often delve into really rich spiritual avenues as well.

Anyway, the whole reason I bring this up is because while I love every single part of this, there is one part of the night that I usually get pretty depressed with. When everyone is hanging out after small groups, most people talk and form these small little circles. It's a normal, human kind of behavior (group of people want to talk together? form a circle). Yet the reason this is problematic for me, is because I often find myself drifting from one circle to another.

I get bored easily. And I love variety. I suppose that's why I've always been quick to avoid having a "clique" or a group of people that I could call "my boys" because I saw very little value in it. I wanted to be me to everyone--why would I limit myself to a select few? At least that's the thought.

So, I often end up making a lot of friends. The caveat is that for purposes like human circle talking, I find myself circle-less. And, well, it sucks. Pretty badly.

It's hard to describe. It's not like I don't know a lot of people at the gathering (which I do), and it's not like not a lot of people like me (which a lot of people do). Rather, because of my lack of depth with many of these friends, I don't really have a circle to go to.

Driving home made this thought sink in. And it also gave light to the fact that Glorie, in so many ways, was my best friend. Not because she always made me feel welcome or whatever (which she did), but because our closeness was a fruit of our friendship.

I wish I could have that with a lot of people.