547 days ago we pulled up our roots, said goodbye to what we knew and began an adventure that would have us planting ourselves in the fertile soil of Missouri.

And many amazing things have happened since we moved. We bought our first house (yay!!). We started a small-group at our church. We adopted a second dog. My wife spent the night in the ER a few weeks ago (she’s ok), and despite an ER visit, CT scan and meds totaling over $20k, we didn’t pay a cent. See? Amazing things!

And yet, 547 days into this adventure the one thing I feel most deeply is that I don’t fit. Anywhere.

Kids? Ha – nope. The doctors say everything is fine, but I can’t get my wife pregnant for anything.

Friends? Not really. Sure, we’ve done all we can to be involved at our church, we’re section leaders and small-group leaders, but a year into this we’ve only had one invitation to do anything with anyone anywhere.

And all I know to ask is “Why”? What else can we be doing? We’re friendly, we host people, our church is even using OUR FACES to advertise small-groups!

I used to fit in. My wife used to fit in. I don’t know what happened. But now we use a long weekend to take the dogs to get french fries.

My god, we’re lonely.

Earlier this evening, I confessed to her that it just sucks. How I had hope that Memorial Day weekend would have resulted in an invitation somewhere, anywhere. And she shared with me that she’s cried more than once in the shower this week.

This isn’t like me. I don’t allow myself to feel down, I fight so hard to be positive and upbeat, to support her dreams and hopes. To be happy. To be there for her and help look on the bright-side and encourage and love…

But I don’t know what to do.

I cannot fix this.

Having kids seems to be the one ticket we were never allowed to obtain and by default, we are not allowed into the exclusive club of parenthood.

And by golly, if you are not allowed into the parenthood club, then
You
don’t
fit.

Anywhere.

Why do I so desperately want to fit? Because fitting in equals value to me. Having a group of people want to be around me, want to be friends tells me I’m lovable.

I find value there.

And even if we’re never allowed into any clubs, I can at least realize that I cannot base my worth on the valuation of someone else, my self-esteem on the desire of another to be my friend. So in that, I know I have room to grow.

And if there is one thing you can do in the fertile soil of Missouri, it is grow.

So I will.