The Reminder

My name is Rachel.
I'm 22 this year and I'm still afraid of lizards. I'm definitely too old to be on tumblr and am easily amused. I absolutely love dogs, chocolate, city lights and music.
I don't own any of the quotes/pictures I post, unless otherwise stated.
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The Shredding Machine

Sometimes I feel so woefully disconnected from everyone around me. Like there’s an unbridgeable gulf in between and I’m standing at the opposite end, trying to get people to understand what I’m trying to say and what I’m feeling but every attempt just falls short of the kind of connection dreams are made of. 

Today, I was sharing a friend’s facebook status with my boyfriend. I found it really well-written and inspirational, and it got me thinking about God and jobs and embarking into the working world (I’m about to start looking for jobs myself). This is the status: 

“Was shredding a ton of resumes that didn’t meet the mark yesterday… Took an hour. Found myself praying… For broken dreams, unmet goals, job-seekers, for the reward of the deserving, for alignment of lives to meet jobs in which they can bless & be blessed, for bread-winners, for internationals, for the unemployed, for people to love their jobs… As much as I’m loving mine.

There are so many strange places we can meet with God… Like at the shredding machine.”

My friend works in HR and I felt that her description and reflection was so pure and hopeful that I just had to share it. I wasn’t sure if my boyfriend was busy or if he didn’t bother reading carefully or if he just wasn’t interested. He’s never usually that interested in such things to begin with. But I guess I was expecting at least a “it’s very well-written” or a “it’s nice that she connects with God like that”. But all he said was, “I don’t get it”. 

It’s not that I’m mad, but I guess at times I wish that I could have someone who could connect with me on all levels. Not even a boyfriend. A friend. Just a person who can delight over a string of sentences and marvel at the beauty of the human spirit and be inspired as I am when my impoverished soul gets replenished. Someone who will stop and listen to all the wonderful stories that people have to tell. Not just an intellectual meeting of the minds, but also a spiritual meeting of the hearts. 

In a lot of ways my boyfriend is that person, but sometimes, like today, he is not. I obviously don’t blame him, because he is already beyond amazing and a boyfriend can’t be everything. I guess I just wish I had a friend for this.