"Few are more aware of their own limitations than I am."
It seems like yesterday I made a pretty good argument that I'm just a snob, which explains why I don't have a lot of choices for how I spend Friday evenings. I'm not sure what I look like from other people's eyes, but it seems to me that if I were really an arrogant snob I wouldn't even ask the question.
Not many people are as aware of their own limitations as I am. One of the reasons I don't throw many rocks at others is because it's hard for he to hit someone else without hitting myself at the same time. (Besides, I don't see any benefit to it.) Whenever I see someone living a life I have chosen or been blessed not to live, I do not think I am better than him. I'm much more liable to think, "Except for the Grace and Providence of God, that could easily be me."
I don't think I am a conceited snob, but I may indeed be a little spoiled. My past is filled with really good relationships with really good people. And it seems like they end up all over the world. If it were possible to travel to Boston, Edmonton, Dallas, Houston, Amarillo, Zambia or several other places on a Friday afternoon to have coffee or a drink with someone I can connect with, I'd never have Friday Night Let Down Syndrome.
This came home to me in a big way Sunday. I was talking to someone about the possibility of their spending six to nine months on a humanitarian/missions project in Nicaragua next year. I encouraged them to pursue it if possible both for the good of the world at large, but also because of the people he would be meeting and working with. I said,
"The other people going on this trip are by definition going to be great people to know for the rest of your life. They, like you, will be making a choice of sacrifice and service at a time in life when most people your age are just looking for a good time. People like that are rare, except in environments like this trip. Take advantage of the opportunity to engage with this caliber of people."
Afterwords, I realized that this caliber of people is exactly who I spent my college and early career days with. These are the type of people I am hungry to be around now. This level of people is who makes up 100% of my wonderful, if small, base of friends. These folks are the antithesis - the exact polar opposites - of barflies.
And I don't personally know a single gay person in this class. Therein lies the problem.