Waiting to be Found

Life does not seek you out.
Opportunity, contrary to the old cliche, does not come knocking at your door.
There IS some truth to the idea that you have to be in the right place at the right time for certain situations to work in your favor.

So, while I am well aware that you have to encourage opportunity by putting yourself in situations where life can easily find you... there is a really big part of me that is just waiting to be found.

I waiver back and forth from being content with my life as a single woman and wanting to find a life partner. The single girl in me laments the sacrifices necessary for cultivating a successful life-long relationship. And to a certain degree, that same single girl struggles to believe that somewhere out there is a man who could be crazy about me. I can't imagine someone loving me. And it's that thinking that makes it easy to foresee a lifetime of singleness.

On the other hand, somewhere deep inside is that little girl still hanging on to her fairy tale dream of being swept up by the man of her dreams, marrying him and having a house full of kids. She thinks she's pretty enough and smart enough and gifted enough. That girl still believes she is worthy of unimagineable love.

And it's the romantic in me that is just waiting to be found. I don't want to seek it out. I don't believe that is our job as women. I believe men should do the work. From the moment he sets eyes on you and feels whatever it is that he feels that tells him you are the one... He should pursue you. He should prove that he wants you, that he needs you, that he can't take another breath without having you by his side. You should feel comforted but not overwhelmed by his need to have you in his life and there should never be a doubt in your mind that when you need him, he will be there. And the proof should be in his actions.

There's a story in a book I read recently about a female bartender. She was working one night and one of her customers asked her out. She laughed heartily as she leaned over the bar and said, "Do you know how many guys ask for my number and never call?"

The guy felt a bit beat down but straightened himself on his barstool and leaned in. "Come on," he said, "I really want to take you out. If you give me your number, I will call."

The bartender shrugged him off. "Yeah right," she said.

But the guy persisted throughout the night. Finally, as she wiped down the bar for the final time, the bartender stopped and offered, "I'll tell you what... My name is Janie Jones. I am listed in the phone book."

The next day, that guy called all eight Janie Joneses in the book until he found that bartender.

He did whatever it took. He saw something in her that drove him to pursue her. It thrust him into action. And he didn't let her down.

For the record, I am easy to find. I'm in the book. I have had the same cell phone number for almost 10 years. (How many people can say that?) When I sing at events around the country, they announce my name and most of the time they post it on the jumbotron. I am loud, most of the time. If I meet you in a grocery line, I will talk to you. So, I know a lot of people. Chances are that if you want to meet me, you probably know someone who knows me already. At the most, we are separated by only three degrees. What I am saying is if someone wanted to find me, he could. It would be a simple task.

Sadly, there doesn't seem to be a search party out trying to find me at this time. In fact, noone has ever searched. Not to my knowledge anyway. I am not an ugly girl. So, it isn't altogether unfathomable that someone might have serached at one time or another. Perhaps I am just unaware. Oh who am I kidding? My parents have lived in the same house for 37 years. If you WANT to find me, you can.

What's even more sad? Well, more sad would be that I have even dropped hints, given guys clues about how they could find me if they wanted to once I was gone. I realize men don't take hints. The word HINT is not even a part of their vocabulary except when they are asking, "Was that supposed to be a hint?" But in attempt to alter fate, I have tossed out some bread crumbs, hoping a guy I liked would follow the trail to my house.

Don't feel sorry for me though. Perhaps being found is not in the cards for me. Maybe I am meant to be single. But if I am not and there's a guy on his way, I am confident that I will know he's the one. Because he will be the one who just shows up. He will be the one with the great story about what he had to do to get here. And he will be the one with bread crumbs on his shirt.