Meaningful Moments

It's been a year ago today since I met A. At this very hour last year, we were looking over karaoke songs in a rundown bar and he was offering to buy me a drink for the second time. I let him. I was so innocent then. And looking back on the aftermath of that night makes me think of the closing lines from a movie I haven't watched in a long time.

"It is always surprising how small a part of life is taken up by meaningful moments. Most often, they're over before they start, even though they cast a light on the future and make the person who originated them unforgettable."

I didn't know the night that I met A he would have such a profound impact on my life. I didn't know I'd be sitting here a year later fighting back tears for longing over a man from whom I haven't been able to move on. I thought he was just a guy in a bar, a summer fling that would end with no one hurt or sad. I was wrong. He was so much more. Meeting him was a meaningful moment. It changed my life. It made me Gomer. You can't get much more meaningful than that.

That night wasn't the start of my journey toward becoming Gomer, but it certainly drove me there more quickly than I had ever imagined and opened a door for me to become Gomer in ways I never could have without it. I don't know if I would change that or not. I think not. It's been painful, and though I mention the relationship that was born that night, that relationship isn't the focus of this blog. In truth, the fact that I became Gomer is. The relationship with A was profoundly instrumental in that. But even without A, I'm still becoming Gomer. And though my old Fundamentalist Christian friends (we'll affectionately call them Fundies, courtesy of my far-Left atheist carpool buddy) would vehemently disagree, I think becoming Gomer was exactly what I needed. It sucks right now because my story isn't to the good part yet. It's still in the part where I wonder if my Hosea (God) will come after me and bring me back to be His beloved in a way I couldn't have been before. I'm still running away and wondering if He cares enough to fight for me. I'm still trying to hope that what I hope for - a God who really loves me when all of my ugly secrets and desires are out in the open and no longer hidden away, when I'm no longer trying desperately to be perfect, when I've stopped fighting to be good - will be real.

I've come to the conclusion that the real reason any of us become Gomer - and maybe the reason Gomer became so notorious a woman in the Biblical narrative - is because we need to know that Hosea loves us enough to bring us home again, buy us back again, fight for us. Because if He doesn't He isn't what we really need. And we need to know this in a real and personal way, not because it says so in the Bible and not because some preacher says so from a pulpit. We need to know it because we've experienced it and it's real in our lives.

I used to be one of the those really, really good Fundy girls. In fact, just one year ago I still fit that mold. I no longer identify myself as a Fundy. I just don't buy the sales pitch anymore. In fact, I'm not sure I like the label Christian either, just because it too puts me in the Fundy group. I like the idea of being a Christ follower, which is what my pastor calls us. Though to be honest, I don't feel like much of a Christ follower these days. I feel more like the girl who used to hang around camp all the time hoping He'd notice her in the background. But there were always better followers and I just couldn't keep up. So now I'm the girl who's hoping that He'll notice I haven't been around camp in a long while and might come looking for me. And not in that "Jesus-came-to-preach-in-my-hometown-and-saw-me-and-told-me-He'd-been-wondering-where-I-disappeared-to" kind of way. I don't want to be a stop on His route, so to speak - "was in the neighborhood and thought I'd check in." I'm tired of being that. I feel like I've been that all my life. I guess I'm back to that whole "needing Hosea to come get me" kind of place. I'm hoping I won't be an afterthought. I'm hoping I'll be important enough for Him to drop everything and come find me. Leave the camp and the preaching circuit to come to my out-of-the-way village just to find me. Not because there are a few hundred here He can preach to. Just for me.