some memories still hurt

I was poking around on Facebook when I noticed a group about a church I used to go to back when I'd just started highschool. It was one of those "dynamic," "growing" churches that had a glittering youth and children's ministry. The youth group itself was larger than some churches I've been to. They had ministry retreats, plays, musical programs, their own band, camps, game nights, interns from a local university. You name this group had a it. For a while things were good. I was a new kid, and I was homeschooled. That made me a novelty. Couple that with the fact that I didn't fit in very well, and I became a bit of project for the youth director...until he found out that there wasn't really anything wrong with me and that there wasn't anything he could really do for me. Then he just sort of left me alone. We just thought we were the coolest church around. We were Kevin Derryberry's home church. Student life staff and members of the acting group "All Things to All People" went to that church. We'd go to Student Life conference, and I'd actually met most of the folks up on stage. But I never really fit. In a church full of rich kids and public school kids and kids from broken homes we were too normal and too different at the same time. I dressed funny. I wore homemade shirts in outlandish patterns and in general looked nothing like them. I didn't drive. I wasn't allowed to ride with many people. I lived to far away to be driven to some stuff. I didn't know how to fit in with them. I didn't listen to their music, or watch their movies, or go to their schools. I didn't know how to talk to them. The one time I found someone I started to feel comfortable with some other girls swooped in and that was that. I still remember the names and faces of some of them -more faces than names. These were the people who'd hug you on Wednesday night and not think to call you on Thursday. I don't suppose it was really their fault. Something just didn't fit there. Eventually we left the church because the pastor said something my folks couldn't stomach, and that was that. I have some old Kevin Derryberry cd's, and to this day the pictures inside the cd make me sad. I remember all the faces -faces of people whom I desperately wanted to like me and know me. I had several people say that they admired me or that I inspired them to do something or the other. I suppose I should be grateful for that. Mostly though I just remember that inspiring someone isn't very fulfilling when what you really want them to do is come and give you a hug and invite you over to spend the night and watch a movie with them. I don't remember ever really feeling such a raging loneliness as when I went to that church. I don't know if my need was greater or if I merely let myself feel the need more -no matter. Now that I'm married and have such a dear friend with whom I walk in daily companionship I don't feel the need near so strong. But I still mourn over that young teenage girl who wanted so desperately for someone to love her and found only empty, beautiful words hanging like delicate bubbles in the air. Sometimes I still wish she could have been happier.