I wonder what the hell popularity really is.
The word has been thrown around at Fuller so much lately, that I’m about to gag myself. In the past month, I think I’ve heard someone refer to my popularity almost daily. I’m not saying this to build my self-esteem up, or sound so high and mighty. I’m saying it because I’m sick and tired of it. I thought I was out of middle school when I left in 1996. It was a shitty enough of a year when i finished it, but 10 years later, I’m back at it and with a vengeance.
I find myself lately so caught up in it, yet so drawn away from it. I talk with Grete about it, and I see myself so “over” it, and yet so caught up in the midst of it while I talk. Why do I want to be “liked”… why do I care who likes me? Why do I care who knows I’m well-liked? Why do some people I know interact so weird with me?
I kid you not, I know a lot of people here. I’m well-liked. I have some utterly amazing and astoundingly, breathtakingly, amazing friends. But I see this vortex here. We’re so caught up in ourselves, finding the perfect match, getting the perfect grades, preparing for the future ministries we’ll someday embark upon, that we’ve forgotten occasionally how to really love.
Or better yet, we know how to love our friends who are in our special, tiny little social strata, and yet we refuse to figure out how to let more in, because they might rustle the feathers of some people because of some character flaw they might have.
I feel like the song Justin McRoberts sings all the time…
I am the 53rd in the deck,
I’ve got a kick me sign hanging round my neck
I want to love people better, but maybe I’ve got to figure out how to love myself more first.