(And to quote one of my favorites, "I like to start my notes to you as if we're already in the middle of a conversation. I pretend that we're the oldest and dearest friends- as opposed to what we actually are- people who don't know each other's names...")
Last year, I had a weekly gathering of girls in my home. At least 10 of us sat legs-crossed, feet tucked under us and candles flickering as we talked and learned Truth.
We'd also meet up for morning coffee, dinners, shopping afternoons, park excursions, porches at dusk, overnights at a hotel where we could be girly and stay up late popping bottles of champagne.
Life was a steady stream of
kindred spirits in sisters,
men who stood beside me as brothers and guards on the watchtowers of my heart,
spiritual mentors, friends and parents who helped me heal, laugh and lift my head.
One of the biggest concerns my friends and family had when I moved back to Upstate NY from bustling DFW was this very thing.
Maybe a bit too much of it.
I'm not a social butterfly. But I do find that my heart and soul responds to community like the ocean to the moon. The healthy community and friendships I shared in DFW...
- pushed me towards better things.
- covered me with grace.
- addressed character flaws that I tried to hide.
- inspired beauty.
Now it's days, even a week or more, where no other footsteps come up these steps besides my own and the little toddling one that follows me everywhere I go. I see my parents in snippets throughout the day, and in a good week, my sister and I will cross paths, maybe my nieces and nephews will journey up. Friends are busy, scattered, growing families, pursuing careers, or simply quiet.
There's nothing wrong with it all. It's just different.
It's enough solitude to make me
walk in circles
in my kitchen
Don't feel bad for me, because I'm ok. I've learned a lot in this season of quiet and solitude. And I'm learning a lot more about myself in this transition.
I'm not having a pity party.
I'm not dying of loneliness.
But I am looking ahead.
God loves me enough to make me uncomfortable when it's time for change, so that I love and fully embrace the next thing he has for me. He's good like that.
It's like He knows me.
This next season, this move to Rochester, is happening soon. If for no other reason that I'm ready to hear voices in the hallway, feet scuffling on the streets, and maybe the remote possibility that community will find it's way back to tide, wax and wane against my shores.