I was once engaged. For a day.

And I’ll confess: it was an engagement of convenience. Yep, Sandra Bullock should probably play me in a movie. But let’s back up.

Studying abroad in London has pretty much been one of the best, most exciting, most impacting experiences of my life to date. Living in the center of the city, hanging out with the coolest Brits in all the UK, interning at the publishing branch of the Church of England, feeling my faith in a new way at Westminster Chapel…and oh, that boat party on the Thames! So many memories…

Crowne Plaza Hotel, London-St. James

While in London that first time—and several times since!—I stayed at Vandon House Hotel, literally one block from Buckingham Palace, just a jaunt from Victoria Station one direction and Westminster Abbey and Parliament the other. And right across the street from Vandon House? The Crowne Plaza Hotel.

Now, this is a posh hotel. The Zimbabwe football (soccer) team stayed there during one of my return trips to London. I used to stare at the place from my window in Vandon House wondering what the inside looked like…and if they’d throw me out if I tried to enter in my oh-so-American jeans and tee. 

Never figured I’d get the chance to see the inside. Never figured I belonged. 

Until the day the Crowne Plaza Hotel hosted a bridal fair. 

I remember so clearly sitting in the dining area off the kitchen of Vandon House. One of my best friends and the college roomie who first got me interested in studying abroad (shout out to Maggie!!) and I were hanging with some of our British friends that day, and I mentioned my wish to see the inside of the Crowne Plaza. Another friend had seen the poster for the bridal fair. 

The obvious course of action stared us in the face.

We stared back.

And things got…romantic. Well, as romantic as a platonic engagement can get. He proposed, and I promptly rushed up to my room to change out of my jeans. You know, just in case my worry about getting thrown out had merit. And my fake fiance and I trotted across the street to check out the Crowne Plaza.

The place was beautiful. Upscale. Elegant. The kind of place I’d like to stay someday as a legitimate guest rather than a hastily engaged impostor.

In other words, as someone who belongs.

Okay, so that was a long story to tell to get to the point. Sorry, nostalgia took over. But here’s the thing: a sense of belonging just isn’t something that can be as easily faked as my one-day engagement. 

A view of the Crowne Plaza from the window of our room at Vandon House. I actually think Maggie took this photo…

Ever had that feeling of being an outsider looking in? I’m grateful to say it’s been a rare thing in my life. But I’ve sure seen it in the eyes of residents at the homeless ministry where I work. I remember seeing it on the faces of students in school who didn’t have the kind of blessed home life I did. And once in awhile (honesty alert), I feel it myself—not yet married, not yet published in the fiction world, not yet fully settled in my community or even church.

There must be something in us humans that craves belonging. We want to belong somewhere…to someone. It’s not a feeling we can manufacture, and when it’s not present, how easy it is to plummet emotionally.

But here’s the thing I’m realizing more and more lately: when I’m willing to take a step back from my feelings and look at them through the lens of Truth, they’re absolutely shift-able. Their grip loosens. They lose sway over me as Truth takes over. And here’s the Truth about belonging:

There are and probably always will be people and places to which we long to belong in this world. But they can never, ever compare to the powerful truth that we will always belong to God. 

We will always have a place, a purpose, a home in Him. 

No faking our way in, no worry about being thrown out. 

We’re His.

I don’t know about you, but that knowledge fills me with such a sense of comfort and confidence. And perhaps even more than that, peace. The kind I felt sitting against a hard pew in Westminster Chapel or on a blanket in St. James Park. 

I may or may not someday “belong” in the Crowne Plaza Hotel. But I will always belong to God.

Fake engaged or not. 🙂


How about you? Ever wanted to check out a place you weren’t sure you belonged? Ever had that outside-looking-in feeling? What helps you remember where and to Whom you ultimately belong?

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