One morning before a family reunion, I worried it would be superficially pleasant but not all that interesting. Who in my extended clan is really like me? I grew up in California, they grew up on the east coast. I’ve worked for years in Africa, none of them have. What do I have in common with them?
What if, I then wondered, I was not alone in feeling alone? I knew my list why the others were different. Did they each have their own list? They could well have. We are each unique, no one really knows anyone just like them.
It came to me: We are each alone. We each bear the privilege and the awkwardness or loneliness of being the only one of ourselves. It is God and God alone who knows us totally and perfectly, and who really understands. Sometimes other humans do understand, that is a blessing. But when they do not, should that be such a surprise?
What reminded me of this: Bruce B linked to a blogger I hadn't read before.
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