What Have You Done With Introverted Me?

On the street you look at me and I look back at you. In your car, across the intersection I see you and I wonder.  On the street I see you walking there, and groups of people making their way to somewhere. They would be mine, if they were His, all the people  in one family. 

 I see the people and I long for connection.  Who are they, each one? What do they like?  Do they laugh at the dining room table as they eat a meal? Do they tell stories, do they cook? Do they like to read, or write?  I see the worn man, tattered and torn walking briskly along the road.  Could he be my brother?  Is he funny?  What are his dreams?  I want to know them all. Yes, it's me the introvert, yes, me the fearful one.

I see them on the street and I see the family that could be mine.  I pass by the woman sitting, watching her son swim in the community pool and I want to know her.  She may be someone's sister, someone's cousin. Why can't she be mine, my family?  I want to know who she is and what wonderful things she knows and does.  

I see them on the streets, in their cars, in the windows at restaurants and browsing in clothing stores and I know they are meant to be His and in turn, they'd be mine.  We would all be family.  

If I continue to think this way maybe I will be hurt.  Maybe they will not want Him, maybe they won't want me, or a big, forever family.  But maybe they do.  It really could be.  Maybe I could ask and see.

Lord, what have You done with introverted me?