Tomorrow when the world wakes up, I'll be in another town.

I've been asked before, "If you could choose invisibility or flight, which super power would you choose?" I answer "invisibility, of course" because the thought of being able to hear and see the things that I wish I could is so tantalizing to me. And yes, I know that means I'd hear and see the things I would never want to.

I've been struggling. Battling with my tendency to buy into false realities of having an irreplaceable position of importance in people's lives. I forget how easy it is to assume, or confuse rather, my necessary involvement in a person's life with their necessary involvement in mine. It's actually kind of arrogant of me. It does, however, leave me feeling pretty much invisible. This kind of invisibility doesn't exactly hold the kind of excitement or fascination that I assumed invisibility would. You don't get to come and go whenever you please. You pretty much are just always going.

I've been reminded that while kinda ghostly, I'm not alone. Invisibility is a gift others have had the unfortunate pleasure of knowing.

"But she had an Egyptian maidservant named Hagar; so she said to Abram, "The LORD has kept me from having children. Go, sleep with my maidservant; perhaps I can build a family through her." Abram agreed to what Sarai said. So after Abram had been living in Canaan ten years, Sarai his wife took her Egyptian maidservant Hagar and gave her to her husband to be his wife. He slept with Hagar, and she conceived. When she knew she was pregnant, she began to despise her mistress...Then Sarai mistreated Hagar; so she fled from her." Genesis 16:1-4,6

I've been learning that while painful, invisibility has it's silver lining. If one is always present, always available, always necessarily involved - there is never an opportunity to be found. And I'm feeling the weight of wanting to be found.

I am deciding if the ick of invisible is worth the rightness of being found.