Friends

Lost a friend tonight, most likely.  (not death or anything, they're still alive)  

The reason?  

Because I try to be caring person and have worked hard at being a good friend.  Because this person hasn't had enough of that in their life.  After the confession of something I'd suspected for months, they said they'd just stay away from me.  They live out-of-town, so our paths won't cross if they don't want them to.

I want to weep.  Not just for the lost friendship either.  This one has been like a younger sibling to me for almost 6 years.  My heart goes out to them, but there is nothing I can do. 

"You're the only person who makes me feel needed on Earth." 

 This.  This sentence right here has me wanting to go hide in my room away from the kids and bawl.  They asked if I've prayed for them.  Yes.  Often.  Now.

Everyone needs and ear and a shoulder- preferably several, that they can lean on, that they can go to to help when the world is just too heavy.  I've had plenty of times like that in the past several years.  And this one was one of the ones that has always been there for me, when I chose to share my burdens. 

At the same time, it makes me think of the other friendships I have. The new friends I've met, folks that think my oddities are fun, and accept me and my weirdness.   The sisters I've gotten so much closer with over the past year.  Friends I can tell things to that I've never told another soul.  And how excessively thankful I am for them.

I still will care for this friend, no matter what they do. And my most heartfelt prayer is that they are surrounded by friends- real, true friends.  Soon.

Liberation

I conceded a war last night.  One that I've been fighting for decades. 

I stopped fighting my hair.

We went out for dinner with my in-laws last night, and after I'd pulled my hair back, I turned to the mirror.  And I didn't like it. 

Most of my life, I've thought my hair was too fuzzy- to wild- and that it must be tamed.  I pull it back, wet it down, tie it up, and try to hide it.  So last night, I looked at it, plastered against my head, flat and rigid.  It just wasn't me.

So I pulled out the clip holding it back, brushed out the top a little, and left it free.  It looked like me.  And it looked good.  Good enough that even several hours later I felt confident enough about it to take a picture and post it- even changed my profile pic on Facebook. 

In truth, the liberation is about far more than my hair.  It's about not trying to pull myself back- not watered down, tieing my spirit back, trying to hide who I am-how I feel. 

My hair is free, and so am I.

Let it go.

My heart aches watching friends so broken, so hurt.  But what really can I do?  I can't walk away, nor can I fix it. 

They tell me to let it go- don't worry over it, don't try to carry the weight myself. 

But how can I listen to the tears of a friend and not cry myself?

Somehow, I have to let it go.

Peacemaker.

"God blesses those who work for peace, for they will be called the children of God" Matthew 5:9 NLT

I kept telling myself this over and over again yesterday.  And still it was hard.  This morning, I went to look up the reference, and I noticed something about the Beatitudes- each of those Christ calls Blessed- it isn't easy, fun, or even generally desirable.  Poor in spirit, those who mourn, meek, lowly, merciful, hunger and thirst for justice, peacemakers, persecuted, mocked. 

Doing what is right, trying to mend those relationships torn by hurt feelings, misunderstandings and such is hard and heart-wrenching.  I think it gives us a glimpse of The Father's Heart- if we can see the brokenness, and cry for those relationships- how much more does it hurt Him to watch his children squabble?

So many times this happens to me.  It's part of who I am that I tend to see both sides of an argument- and feel the validity of each point.  When the conflict is between two friends, I cannot take sides. 

I end up in the role of peacemaker- or at least trying- to help each side understand the other- translate the points into what the other will understand.  It hurts, and oftentimes I am accused of being wishy-washy, not being a good friend to one or the other, or just flat ignored.

I think what seems to make it worse is that on the outside, I don't appear to be as broken as I feel about it all.  Between the anti-depressants I take, and the fact that I've had to train myself to keep my emotions inside, I may look calm, but my heart is weeping. 

(Josiah overreacts to other people's emotions and pain- especially mine, so I have to keep it from him. I grew up being told I was overemotional, so I hold it in as much as possible.)

So my heart cries today.  I did what I could yesterday, trying to help, trying to keep my focus and attention on what needed to be done- loving everyone in my circle, being teacher, mom, and friend.  Now I have the opportunity to let it out, to curl up on the couch with my snuggly Gracie and whimper, and hope that in my own struggle, I've not lost the closest friend I've had in years just because I'm trying to be a peacemaker.

Loved

Sometimes it takes falling flat on your face to see how many hands are there to help you up.

My allergies kicked in yesterday.  My first reaction was "Great- the day before I have a solo."  I medicated, warmed up, hydrated, and prayed.  (notice the order..)

This morning, my thoughts were still the same.  I kept trying to figure out why this had to happen today.  Eventually, I thought I had it- trust.  I needed to trust and give my voice over to the One I sing for- let Him sing.  I prayed and tried to get my heart right in the last 15 minutes before the offertory.

I strode up there, ready.  Then... well, as Josiah and others reminded me- at least I didn't give up.

When I finally opened my eyes and started walking down from the platform, I saw two friends waving me over to them from the front pew.  I collapsed into their hugs.  As the service ended and people started moving around, I was surrounded by more and more hugs.  More 'good job's than if I had performed perfectly.  And one of my little girls telling me that it was okay and I should stop shaking.

And in the middle of all that, I had almost missed something so sweet:

  I always bring a mug of tea with me to drink during Sunday school.  After class, I've finished it, so I rinse it out and re-fill it with a can of DrPepper.  A few times lately, I haven't had enough change, so I've had to skip the DrPepper.  Josiah noticed.  Today, when I got into the sanctuary, he handed me a DrPepper can.  I found later that he had brought change from his piggy bank to make certain I could have my drink.  I was so worried about that song, I'd almost missed what a beautiful thoughtful thing Josiah had done.

Tomorrow I'm wearing a t-shirt that says 'princess' on it.  I surprised myself a bit that I even bought it.  And I nearly balked at ever wearing it.

But I can, and I will, because I am loved.

Distractions

I often do crochet work during the sermon at church.  (Yes, the pastor knows- Josiah insisted on the front row for a couple years.) 

For a couple decades now, I've had trouble staying awake during the sermon.  I doesn't have anything to do with the subject, preacher, or how much sleep I've gotten.  (though the sleep issue does help)  I noticed I had the same problem staying awake during classes that were between 10 and 12 as well.  (Angela- if you're reading this, I know you're laughing!)  I sat in choir lofts most of my college years- and several after that, and the job of the person next to me was to keep me from falling over.  Most of the ways I could think of to stay awake were to distracting, and I still would miss the teaching.

So eventually I discovered if I did some sort of work with my hands that didn't take much concentration, I could stay awake and be able to pay attention to the sermon.

Learning how to crochet made it easy.  I keep a project in a bag and ready to go every Sunday.  Scarves, blankets, etc.  I consider them extra-blessed since the majority of the work done on them is during the sermons.  They take a long time to finish that way, but the point is to keep me alert.  With my fingers busy, I can focus on the lesson- on the Word, and not be distracted my trying to stay awake- or anything else, really.  (And I get distracted pretty easily these days.)

Right now I'm working on a baby blanket.  It's taken long enough that who it's for has changed twice, and may again.  I've been going along well on it, but the skein of yarn got so tangled, I'm having to re-roll the ball- while it's still attached to the partially-made blanket.  So that's my Sunday project at the moment- untangling yarn.

A few minutes into the sermon, I heard the lady behind me 'whisper' to her husband that my yarn was too distracting.

My Yarn? 

I could understand if made noise, or I was throwing it around, but it was all either on my lap or beside me on the pew.  And I admit I've done far more potentially distracting things over the years, including nursing Grace.

And this after a reminder to not let my Worship become distracting while on praise team.  I didn't think distraction would be a problem on one of the back pews...

So there was my quandary:  Do I put away the busywork that's helping me focus because it is disrupting someone else?  Or should I continue my focus on what I'm learning, and not worry with what someone shouldn't really be bothered with in the first place?

I know I put this out on Facebook- and even on a couple other sites as something written by a fictional character, but here's my resolution of sorts.

To be bold in love
To believe in God working through me
And to believe that I am lovely too

You are Beautiful

You are Precious

You are Worthwhile

You are Amazing

How often do I say this

And mean every word?

How often do I show love

Though the other may not see?

Tell someone they are wonderful

Tell someone they are good

Beg them to see themselves

The way my heart does

All are beautiful the way they are

Their stories worth telling-

Worth being heard.

One only do I not say this to

One only I do not hold as dear-

That one would be me.

So I write this for myself now

Inscribe it on my heart

Write it on the walls

To remember at every turn:

Tell the world it is Beautiful

Never forget that you are too.

The love, the grace you show

Given so freely to all

Is given to you as well.

You are loved just as you are

Be bold with your heart

Knowing this does not change.

You are steadfast

Believing the best of others

No matter what may be

Know others see you

With the same love you show

Listen

Believe

You are beautiful as well.