In the "Out"

The restaurant was crowded with a myriad of hungry people and at least six television sets blaring away. We were scheduled to meet some friends there to share dinner, and when we arrived we scattered throughout the various booths they had reserved for us. One of them was already packed with four young adults, but they managed to squeeze in a couple of my siblings. The littlest girls joined their little friends in another, and my dad and mom sat with the adults. There was one booth left for three more people—those of us who were in the “out”.

My two middle sisters and I looked each other over. There was no more room for us with the young adults, none for us with the little girls, and we certainly weren’t adults. We had as much fun as we could muster staring each other and trying to catch snatches of the conversation in that wildly fun booth.

One of the dads walked by with an extra piece of pizza and kindly asked us if we wanted it because if not he would give it to the big kids. We said we didn’t want it, and he carried it away. I wasn’t a big kid? After all I was older than at least three of the young adults in that booth.

A few of the friends left and my middle sisters took the opportunity to take their places for the last remaining moments at the pizza place. I was all alone.

It really was all right. Our friends were so sweet to buy us pizza, and I had a great time just being near them. It still bothered me though, as have other experiences a lot like this.

Looking back (hindsight is always 20/20), I’ve realized a few things I should have thought of…

1.      Pizza is awesome. Nuff said.

2.      We should have had more fun. My middle sisters and I could have stopped staring at each other and came up with a crazy story idea or something.

3.      There are always other people in the “out” too. I should have realized that my middle sisters probably felt the same way I did and found ways to encourage them.

4.      When people leave me out they don’t usually mean anything by it. There really was no more room in that booth. When my sisters joined them—hooray for them!

5.      That dad didn’t mean anything by his words. I was told twice that day that I looked younger than I actually am. : ) (And I should take that as a compliment…)

6.      I can join the adults! In this case there wasn’t room for me, but sometimes they have more interesting and encouraging things to say than do those of my peer group.

7.      God is always there. Somewhere in C.S. Lewis’s revolutionary essay “The Weight of Glory” he mentions that in heaven we will be famous. Not famous with other people—no, everyone is equal—but famous with God. How beautiful is that? I can be fully known by Him and never forgotten!

So next time I am “in the out”, I need to remember that there are always things to do and people to love there too. : )