A constant companion

I'm the Activity Days leader for the girls age 8-12 in our ward. This week a young lady joined our group by virtue of her 8th birthday. She was confirmed in Sacrament Meeting. I was struck by the words her father said as he conferred upon her the Gift of the Holy Ghost. He mentioned that personage of spirit, the third member of the Godhead, could now be her constant companion. He would be with her always. He would comfort her when she mourned, guide her when she made choices, and rejoice with her when she was happy. It was the last part that I heard.

In my agonizing process of trying to understand how friendships and human relations work, I've often rejected the companionship of the Holy Ghost. Not that I've sent him away, I've just not acknowledged his presence. I know he's been there. Time after time, when I was frustrated, lonely, or confused, I've felt him soothe my soul and bring me peace.

I've written many times about the joy I feel when I'm alone, when I'm running or practicing. But the truth is, I'm never lonely in those times--because truly, I'm not alone. I see things more clearly, I find joy in my surroundings, I come home ready to deal with any problems of sadness I might face during the day--because I've just spent at least 90 minutes experiencing joy, and somehow, knowing that the Holy Spirit has rejoiced with me helps me understand why I return from those moments feeling healthy and whole. He rejoices with me when I am happy.

There have been times when I have lamented that no one understands the things which are so important and vital in my life. I've longed for someone to share the things that bring me joy. Darrin doesn't run--nor does he understand my need to connect with nature. He indulges me, but that isn't the same. Sully comes close to understanding. He sometimes goes to places of beauty which I've shared with him. He says he thinks of me in those times. But I've often just wanted someone with me right in the moment, so that we might share joy together--and I've always had that, I just didn't know.

Sometimes I miss people. Jason rightfully accused me of becoming very attached to people I love. Somehow that feels like a flaw in my character, but I have no idea how to keep the "attachment" from happening. So when I miss people, I put on my running shoes and I run until the feelings go away. I had this conversation with Tolkien Boy about it:

TB: You missed people, so you ran more?
me: Yes. Doesn't everyone? :)
TB: I assume these were people who were not nearby.
me: Not necessarily. But mostly, yes. I don't like missing people. It makes my stomach hurt.
TB: Would there be a way to interact with these people?
me: Tolkien Boy, I'm still trying to figure out how to say, "Hey! I miss you!" without feeling that I'm intruding in a life where I have no place. It has nothing to do with how the other person perceives me, but rather, how I perceive myself.
TB: So, running is part of your practice.
me: Yes. I run till the "missing" goes away.
TB: Well, when you're ready, perhaps you'll start using other strategies.
me: Such as?
TB: I suspect they're things you have to discover for yourself.
me: Right. Sorry I mentioned it.
TB: I didn't mean to sound as if I'm brushing you off. I just don't know if any of the things I do will help you. Would you like to hear them anyway?
me: That's why I asked. :)
TB: Well, when I'm missing someone, I call them up. Or write them a letter. I do this more often, because people love to get letters or emails. Sometimes I just think of the things I like about them, and why I'm missing them. Write about them. Lately, I make little photo montages. That's been fun, actually, if a bit cheesy.
me: I feel stupid when I miss someone.
TB: Why?

I didn't answer him. I was distracted by a sudden thought. TB doesn't miss me. But I miss him. That's why I feel stupid--because I feel something I have no right to feel. TB can't miss me--I talk to him several times a week. It's like the line from the Homer and Jethro song: "...Oh, how can I miss you, If you won't go away..."

I'm digressing.

The point I'm making is that in the midst of all this, there is always someone who wishes to be with me--all the time. And he wants only what is best for me. He loves me. And so I lament what I don't have, without having gratitude for the blessing of my constant companion and friend. There are times when he has to leave me because I'm choosing things that make him uncomfortable. I miss him when he's gone, but I think he misses me, too, and he waits until I'm able to put things right. Then he comes back as soon as possible, helping me heal, comforting when I mourn, rejoicing with me when I'm happy.

And today I'm so thankful for his presence in my life, because I listened to him for the first time in far too long--and I learned things, and I gave service where it was needed, and I knew I was doing what was important for me right now.

I love him. What an incredible gift. I am so blessed by his friendship, love, and concern for me. He is truly one who knows all about me, loves every part of me, understands and participates in the things which bring me joy and are so important to me.

How about that? All this time I've been seeking for something I have always had.