Facing question #2

Onward with those hard questions I asked a while back. I mentioned that the second thing I had been thinking on and dealing with was hard to talk about right now. It is. I feel terribly guilty about something, or more specifically, someone I feel I let down. I've been trying to push it back and not worry about it, but it won't go quietly. I just spent an hour writing about it and I'm about to start crying and it still doesn't make any sense. So I guess I need to get my act together and try this again some other time.

Let's change the subject. My church is super cool. Sherri is one of the very most incredible people ever (is "very most incredible" even a legitimate phrase?). I played a real bongo drum today. A big ass one. Huge. And I sounded pretty good. And Betsy sat next to me and she sounded even better. Betsy is cool too. And I got to paint. And got called an "artist" which still thrills me and throws me at the same time because I wrestle with the feeling that someone will pop in and say "She's not a real artist because no one has ever heard of her and she doesn't make money making art" and I'll have to slink back to the corner in embarrassment. It's a thing with me. I'm dealing. Anyway, I was "the artist" for Sherri today and it was so incredible to be allowed to take part in the seminar as well.

Betsy and Sherri (and Ashley, and Deedie, and Beth, and...) are the people that quietly call to me to come to Cedar Ridge. They don't say anything vocally. But they are so unique in themselves and their friendships with me -- some more personal, some still growing. I am drawn to them and the place where they gather to worship in the hopes that I can become more comfortable in a church setting because each of them are there doing their own thing and allowing me to take part in some way. I don't know if that makes any sense? It's the only way I can think to put it. There are women (and men too) that I look up to for various reasons and they have accepted me as a fellow pilgrim, fellow believer-in-training. It frees me to stop worrying about the people and thinking more about the worship. I don't worry that Sherri and Ashley will stop one day and say to each other "That Stacie girl is really weird." (though they may have already said that since they've both seen me break down and cry over Britney Spears. It was a spiritual thing, don't ask. Really. Don't.) Or that Betsy will look at me and think "what a moron" (though maybe I should worry if she ever sees my lack 'o mad knitting skills). But by now I've decided I'm keeping them, and Cedar Ridge, and it won't matter anyway. And that's not supposed to sound stalker-ish. I have little kids. I have no time to stalk. Not that I'd want to stalk. I don't. Really. But you know what I mean.