Some Thoughts

Or at least a twinge of something somewhat like jealousy. Or longing. Or desire. Or whatever.It was Friday night, and my shop was packed with people. Earlier in the day had been utterly quiet, with only a handful of people walking in. By 8pm, though, almost ten different groups were scattered throughout the process that is Soap Factory.Usually watching people is just a cognitive process for me: This group seems to be having a good time, that group probably needs some help be Or at least a twinge of something somewhat like jealousy. Or longing. Or desire. Or whatever.
It was Friday night, and my shop was packed with people. Earlier in the day had been utterly quiet, with only a handful of people walking in. By 8pm, though, almost ten different groups were scattered throughout the process that is Soap Factory.
Usually watching people is just a cognitive process for me: This group seems to be having a good time, that group probably needs some help because their conversation skills seem lacking. This person may be going through a difficult life experience - they'd probably benefit from some extra attention. I'm a host, and my job is to make sure that people have a great, hopefully transformative experience within the process of making soap... and while my emotions are there, I'm a host first and foremost.
But something inside me broke open on Friday, and a flood of emotions burst out.
It's ironic.
I run one of the coolest date spots in Provo.
We were just recognized as a top location on TripAdvisor with their "Certificate of Excellence" award.
But I can't remember the last time I went on a date.
And the last time I had plans other than work on a Friday night sounds just as long ago.
But, I choose to work on Friday nights. I could have someone else work just as easily... and part of the reason I work on Fridays is so that I'm distracted.
The problem is that I don't know what I want.
Maybe that's not completely true. Part of me never gave up on the want for my life to be normal, to fall in love with a nice girl, to have a family of my own, to have my share like Job of intense but perishable life trials, and to do all the things that everyone else seems to take for granted.
But most of me knows that stubbornly wanting something doesn't mean it will just come true... no matter how faithful I am or how much I want it.
And isn't my life already incredibly valuable? I mean, if 100 people came to my shop out of all the other things they could do, doesn't that mean that I'm providing a valuable resource to the community and the world? Yes, they go home with memories, better relationships, and their own creations... but I go home knowing that I was instrumental in helping it happen. I watch people who've been hurt find healing, other open their hearts that have been closed, and many laugh when laughter has been gone for far too long. In my shop, parents raise their children and others find a sense of wonder long since lost.
It sounds beautiful.
And it really is.
Which ironically, makes the feeling of, "Is it worth it?" that much more poignant when it comes.
I really, really, really want a family of my own.
To the point that I read the entire Utah statute on foster parenting in the past few weeks... and everything the Church has ever written on the marginal subject of being a single foster parent.