becoming real

I've been listening to Sara Groves' new album Invisible Empires.  In one of her songs she sings of wanting to belong and of "waiting in velveteen." I get this. Not just because I love the story about that sweet little bunny who wants so desperately to become real, but because I moved to a new city last year and starting over again isn't easy.

Sometimes I feel o.k., but sometimes I feel like an awkward Jr. Higher. Even after a year, I feel like things are still so on-the-surface. I don't mean to be this way, but I never want to be that person who, when someone asks, "How are you?" just lets it all out. She tells you everything. And you can't blame her...you asked. So I just say something like, "Doing well, thank you," or just plain, "Fine, thank you." And I'm not lying. I really am fine, but there's more to me than that. There's a girl who adores her hard-working husband and her 4 children who play outside and pick blackberries and who loves to bake cookies and read Jane Austen and grow potatoes. I know it will happen eventually. It always does. But sometimes the waiting is awkward and difficult, this waiting to become real.