My Shout Out to Friendship

Friendship used to come with a bit more ease. Lifelong friendships that began with giggles about our crushes and the code names we (I) gave them like chicken sandwich and strawberry. (Why my secret names always revolved around food I have no idea. Oh wait, yes I do.  Food, glorious food.) Bonds formed through intense shared experiences like weeks at camp, a traveling choir, and trips across the country for conferences with thousands of other teenagers. Later there was laughter and tears in college dorm rooms, late nights in greasy local restaurants drinking cheap coffee, and weekly dinners followed by long nights studying with the occasional dance party break. (An obligatory shout out to 50 Cent needs to be inserted here.) There are a few friendships that were formed during high school, college and grad school that provide strength and familiarity and remind me who I am and I have no doubt will continue to carry me through life. These are the friends who have seen me at my best and my worst, stood up with me when I said, "I do," and who my husband tells me to call when he no longer knows what to do with the crazy spewing out from my life. 

The older I have gotten, the more I have struggled with the ease of friendship. More lonely tears have been shed in my adult life than I care to recall.  I am beyond thankful for the life long companion, partner and best friend I have found in my husband; I would fight anyone who says they have better sisters or parents than I do.  I would choose them as my closest friends over and over again.  And yet, I am wired to live in deep, overwhelming, life-giving community. For my soul to be refreshed and full, I want loud parties and gatherings where I can be exactly who I am and I also need to sit across the table from a person I trust over a cup of coffee or a basket (or three) of tortilla chips and be encouraged, challenged, and loved. To be known.  Where I am. Right now. 

My life long friends are a phone call away, and they can't be replaced. Ever. But I long for face to face, week to week contact with people; friendship in which we mutually, physically, literally walk the present journey together.  This is the space where I have experienced the lack of ease in friendship past the age of twenty-two.  New friendships at this stage of life are hard work. Or are they?

It's been over a year now since a face that had become familiar to me showed up at my office with a book in her hand, inviting me to enter the world of bold prayers that this book had invited her into and, more importantly, she humbly asked me to be her friend. I had wrongfully assumed that she already had plenty of friends, as I am sure she had of me. The truth is, no matter how much it appears that we have it all together, we all need a friend or two or ten. The start to this friendship was different than any others. She boldly gave the invitation for friendship and I gratefully checked the yes box and we just decided to make an effort to become friends. Her courage inspired me to quit sitting on the fence and waiting, but instead to put myself out there and claim the community and friendship that I was made for. 

This means that I now regularly sit across the table from someone I trust and we mutually pour out our souls; I chose to let my guard down and now I enjoy ridiculous group text discussions that make me laugh until I cry, football parties with screaming kids and good conversation, early morning "oatmeal crew" breakfasts where the laughter is spiritual and the endless cups of cheap coffee forge trust between us, and it means I can call out for prayer and help and on the days when I need it most and I get to experience the joy of offering the same to another. 

Life is for living and sharing and giving.  I need you, my friends, because I can't do this life thing on my own. 

I am living and it is good.