After being sick and stuck in my hot apartment for 3 days, I needed to get out. It was Sunday, so I decided to go to church.

The “church” is housed in the meeting space of a suburban hotel. Before and after service, beverages and snacks are available to help facilitate community and communication. Its theme is “No one should have to do life alone,” so they do their best to create an environment where everyone feels like they are a part of a community. I chatted a bit with a few folks after service, then made my way out. Small talk isn’t really my thing. I’m more into long, meaningful conversation over a bottle of wine.

On my way home, I stopped by the cutest little organic food store near my apartment to grab something to eat.

I arrived home and set my table for lunch:

• 1 placemat
• 1 plate
• 1 glass
• 1 fork
• 1 knife
• A table for one.

As I sat down to eat, the silence was deafening. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate my quiet time alone and even crave it most of the time, but today was a different story. “My life is empty,” I thought. I literally have no one in my life with whom I can share a meal and a conversation. It didn’t make sense! I mean, I have achieved a modicum of success. I managed to secure an expatriate assignment in Brazil. I own a home. I have a few designer pieces in my closet. I enjoy all types of live music. I can appreciate good wine and a good laugh. I have a healthy spiritual life. I have traversed several continents. I’m cute. I’m charming. I’m smart. I can even be funny when the mood strikes. I have things. I have experiences. But I have no one.

So there I sit at my uber chic all glass rectangular dining table with seating for 6, yet only 1 seat occupied. It was just too much to bear.

As I cut my chicken, the sound of the knife hitting the plate and echoing off of the barren walls simply drove me to tears. The aloneness was palpable. I could feel it in every inch of my body. My heart was aching. I wanted to run away! I needed to get out of that apartment! I needed to escape the mocking betrayal of the silence. The four walls that were designed to keep me safe had now seemingly turned on me. They were closing in on me and threatening to completely crush my spirit. But running seemed cowardice. So I was forced to stay and face my silent demon. After several attempts at trying to comfort myself and force myself to “snap out of it”, I eventually ended up on my knees, face down in the seat of the chair that I once sat eating my chicken, drowning in a pool of my own tears.

I was a mess!

Sure, I know that God is always with me. I really do. I know He’s there protecting me. I know His Spirit guides me. And gosh, how He loves me! My spirit knows it well. But I am not all spirit. I am also human…flesh and bone. And that reality makes me fallible and weak at times, and leaves me wanting. Wanting to hear an audible response, wanting to smell a familiar scent, wanting to feel the heartbeat, and touch the face…wanting to taste what’s unique only to one. And yes, I even know the scripture that tells me that God sympathizes with my weaknesses. I know that my God understands. And yet His seemingly ethereal understanding does nothing to lessen my wanting.

So what’s a girl to do? 

Go to New York City! After all, everyone finds love in NYC… or at least that’s what all of the movies suggest.

Well, I booked a Christmas flight to the Big Apple and decided to put this theory to the test.

Stay tuned for Part II: About New York…