Stranger Danger

Some people say that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet.

Most of my friends are strangers I only just met.

2.5 years ago my life got flipped turned upside-down and I'd like to take a minute just sitting right here and tell you how it happened... but I don't have time.

In that quarter decade I never have.

And though there have been moments where this is a symptom of over-working I don't think it is the main reason. Almost everything I do just feels so "right" and the things that aren't are difficult to spot but I'm working on it. I am living an amazing existence: my job has exciting potential to make a real difference, and open some major doors; I've started a "subversive" Christian newspaper that 2 weeks ago didn't exist but will (prayers said) be printed in 3 weeks - counter to all possibility. I'm coping quite well at the moment, having gotten past some massive internal struggles, and am seeing incredible occurrences on a daily basis. Church is flippin' fantastic and by golly I'm even starting to believe once more that good stuff can, nay will, happen.

But I haven't slept in the same bed continuously for as long as 2 weeks since I was in Russia this July.
And I don't know if I will until I go back.
Which is probably in 2 years time.
And it is foolish to plan that far ahead anyway.
Yet I've still got to at least try to learn the language, just in case...

I was hanging out with my equally busy, work-consumed missionary friend tonight for about 20 mins. We vowed (though accidentally broke it several times) to not talk about work. Here was our conversation:

Him: So, what sort of animal would you get?
Me: Well I was planning on "borrowing" one of my parents' cats but I'm too busy with...
[Pause]
Me: What's your favourite colour? Red?
Him: How did you know?
Me: Well, it's your car. But then you didn't choose that did you, you just had to get what you were given 'cause you're a poor missio...
[Pause, where we insulted Luke for talking geekily about Dr Who, before realising that he did, at least, have a hobby]
Me: Errrrr... what's your favourite reptile?
Him:

End of conversation.

I feel like I have no time for friends. I have nothing to talk about with friends apart from "business". The people I do know are all so relatively new and life keeps moving on so fast that sometimes I sit in the same room as them and feel like a stranger in my own life. Am I a friend I haven't met yet?

Sometimes I wish there was someone there to be my stability in this place of huge change. To know about the different parts of my life and be able to feel my pain and get me, even when I don't. Someone that doesn't feel strange. How is this even possible? Just supposing I had the time right now for a "significant other" to come along - which I don't - that level of closeness would still take ages to develop.

Then I remember this poem (that Nathan (link) posted on his blog a little while ago and gives a little bit of the info for it here (link)) and I think that maybe things will all be OK...

Abigail Burdess – All Kinds of Trouble

I’m in all kinds of trouble now,

The kind where you wake up on a train

And everything, everything’s strange

And where am I? And when did the season change?

I must have been asleep.

I’m sure I must be late.

I’m in all kinds of danger.

The stranger on the platform is not a proper stranger.

“You’re here with me,” he says, “isn’t it great?”

And he’s right.

The kind where there’s too much meaning on the edges of sight

Because he might be there.

The kind where you randomly weep.

I’m in deep, deep hot water.

In a boiling hot geyser

In the mists

In the midst

Of ridiculous Icelandic snow.

Y’know,

You should give up the fags and eat fruit,

Because life should last longer, this life should last longer

If someone like him exists.

Everybody. Lock away the razors and save your lovely wrists:

Someone like him exists.

I’m in every single kind of trouble now

The kind where a kind man could write himself a significant part.

I’m in very grave danger

Of a change of heart.