Man Friends

I've come to realize that I'm better off being friends with guys that are taken. And by friends, I mean really good friends. Like brothers. But not.
The only problem is, they have a girl, and all too often those girls do not like me.

To be blunt, guys like me. They find me entertaining. I'm easy to be with. I don't try to jump them and I'm not looking for a boyfriend. Straight up, I'm looking for a husband. If I determine that they're not what I want to marry, they're in the friend zone and get to hang out with me without the worry of anything else. Well, until they want more, or I need them too much. Then it gets complicated and I avoid a conversation and push them away in silence until things are no longer awkward...

Well, ... okay. That's how it works in my head. But, I also have a history of screwing up those idyllic situations and making them weird. I lose friends. And it sucks. Girls either have girl-crushes on me, or they hate me.
Why can't we all just be friends?

One day it'll all make sense, it'll be okay, and I'll have a husband whom I'll have to be able to trust hanging out with girls that are not me. Wait, what? No.. ... uh. Yes. I'll trust him. Shoot. Just call me the queen of double standards.

My point?
Oh yes..

I had these two guy friends -- back... 3 years ago. I crushed on one of them but he didn't like me, the other one crushed on me but I didn't like him. Things got sticky. My heart broke. God took them both away from me because i made them into idols. I depended WAY too much on them. It was the hardest thing ever.
Fast forward to now: both of them have amazing gals. One's been married over a year, the other is getting married in a matter of weeks. And what is even more amazing than their gals, is the fact that God has completely - and i mean completely- repaired my heart and our friendships. No joke. It brings tears to my eyes to think about. These are 2 Godly men that God put in my life to learn from. I did learn, a lot. They were a significant part of my growing up process. The problem was that I attached myself to them rather than to Jesus. And now, after all of this letting go and giving up and surrendering and missing.. (I would still cry on occasion, missing their friendships, years later)... they're back in my life in a healthy way. No awkwardness, no worry, no concern. And I love them so, so much. I love their wives. I love their hearts. I love that I can be friends with them.
And I love that they love me.

That they forgave me and my foolish heart.

Praise Jesus for forgiveness and healing and new life. Praise Him that His plan is so much better than mine can be.

I threw my heart into the sea, with everything that it contained. But it came back to me, washed and clean, purified and new.


Wow.

Living eulogies, fear and amulets.

Before New Years sprung upon us, I was asked if I make resolutions and if so, what had I ambitioned for this year. I gave a polite no and repeated back to them what was succinctly said to me a few weeks previous: if I want to make a change, I make it; I don't need to wait for the numerical year change to do so.

I continued to describe what I meant. I think I just want to be fearless - or rather, less afraid to say what it is that I want to say. I can go in many different directions with this, but first, I want to say this: Why are we so afraid to tell people what they mean to us while we have them? Why do we wait until they die to announce just how much they meant to us? I want to be more intentional in telling those that have meant the world to me, just how much that worth is. I want them to know that if I were to die, they made an impact in my life. I want to know that if they died, I'd said what I wanted to say to them. Living eulogies. Or eugooglies. However rediculously goodlooking you want to prounounce it.

Why don't we do this all the time? Why do we compliment with the underlying expectation of getting something back? Why do we hope that if I say something 'nice' to someone, I'll get the compliment I need? Why can't we just outright admit that we need to be encouraged, or say that we're not feeling super good about ourselves that day and need a hug - whether in words or body? Why are we sooooo darn afraid to show our vulnerability. We.All.Bleed. We're formed out of the SAME stuff!! No one is invincible -- unless the came from Krypton, and well, he's pretty awesome... -nevertheless, as strong as we pretend to be, we aren't invincible.

But we're afraid. We live in the fear that people might find out we're not holding it all together without faking it. Well. I did.

I'll be honest - now. I've started sharing my deep down insecurities. I have a lot of fear. I'm totally afraid of showing my weakness. I'm scared to be vulernable. I fear rejection and being hurt. I have limits.
And straight up honest, I've hit them and crashed.

Hard.

And it hurts.

So, I've had to start seeing someone and frankly, I should have started a while ago. After one session, I've realized so much about myself -- and was called a poser in the process. It's so true though, we put on the facade we think others expect from us (or at least I did) and try to live out this perfect persona. The problem is, it comes across far too perfect (at least I found) and ends up scaring people away. How can people relate to you if they think you've got it all together?
No one is perfect. We all have issues. We all have insecurities and locked-closet secrets. I have always feared that if I let people peek in that closet or under the mask, they'll take one last look at me, shake their head in disgust and book it for the hills. I've feared that if people find out what I might be like when I want to be alone, when I'm angry or tired or at my wits end, that they'll not want to be around me anymore. ... And leave. Because that has happened before. And my defense: leave first. Either way, it's not dealing with the problem.

And here I am. Lethargic. Apathetic. Indifferent. Burned out. Depressed. Not the 'normal' positive-optomistic-glass half full-happy go lucky -Sharlene.
I just want the couch and some distracting tv program. I burst into tears at the thought of having to share what's wrong - simply because I don't know what's wrong. I've never felt this way before and I don't like it. I don't eat because I'm not hungry - then I feel lightheaded and remember I haven't had any protein for 2 days.
I don't enjoy anything.
I don't want anything.
I'm not suicidal but I don't want to live. I pray that God would just call me back to him in the middle of the night and I'll be done with it all.

But nope. Here I am. Still alive. Still working, living, breathing. And I'm trying to figure out what I want from my life. I'm trying to figure out what those desires are, the repressed wants burning holes in my heart. I'm working at discovering who I am.

In this though, I've never received more love from my closest friends- and people I never expected. I've never felt so cared for, so loved for who I am. Digging through the justifications of why particular people hang out with me, I've come up with none for some of them. I've told them I have nothing to offer, and yet they tell me they want me around. It doesn't make sense to be because my 'understanding' has been so works-based. I don't expect the same from others because I'm honored to have them in my life -- I've just never thought they would feel the same way.
Until recently.

And now, it's harder. Breaking deep rooted negative beliefs about oneself is HARD. When they're uprooted, there are gaping, bleeding, sensitive holes -- and my first instinct is to fill them with other dirt just waiting to fall... but I can't. I need to let them heal - and be filled with life, with things pure and honest, with love and hope, with Jesus and His promises.

So I've spent some of my couch time remembering when things were "good" and what joy felt like. I've spent some time sharing with my closest friends what my heart is feeling and why -and observed their stunned reactions to everything I have been hiding. And they still want me around. They sit there and nod, thanking me for the explanation. And they let me sit in their company with no expectations.
One of them asked me what makes me happy -- and I said I didn't know. He told me he doesn't expect anything from me, that I just have to be me.
I told him that what I've experienced with him and his best friend has been so unusual for me - and I recounted one night with them, driving around neighboring towns until early in the morning.
Just being.
How in that moment of pure life and joy of company with no requirements, I can recount-with a smile on my face- just how I felt and questioned how on earth I was so lucky to be there in that moment. How that moment will forever be etched in my mind and stored in my pocket. Stored in my amulet. How many other moments like those - of pure belonging and true friendship in hugs and time together- are stored close to my heart in that amulet, only to be retreived in dark times like this as glimmers of hope that joy comes in the morning. They're the warmth for my hurting soul and wounded heart. Some days, I spend more time reflecting than living in the present. If I don't focus on the pain, time allows my heart to heal.

All of this deeply impresses on me the importance of community. Of honesty. Of sharing life with people -whether it's seemingly broken life, or moments of joyful bliss.
We need good times and we need moments of brokenness. We need to feel alone to recognize when we're in great company.

And I, an innately positive person, need to understand deep sadness, depression and apathy so I can empathize with, appropriately care for and provide meaningful counsel to those that live it.
And I'll encourage them - and tell them what I see in them. I'll be sure to inform them what I feel they need to know - what God wants them to know. What I'll have to offer won't be based out of book recommendations for affirmation, but rather, from an honest heart to just be there with them and walk with them. Sometimes the greatest help isn't to do things for someone, but to support them as they try to do it for themselves.

And for me, I'll keep extracting memories of past and creating moments of good - to hold in my heart, my amulet, for those low days that will continue to come and discourage. I'll fight.

There's a season for everything under the sun. And so long as we're alive, seasons change. We may not always have those meaningful people with us - but we can choose what we carry with us, in our amulets. We can choose our weapons and the decision to fight. Jesus wins in the end. And that's something to hold to, to look to, and to keep us going.

What's valuable. What's worth it?

"It's not worth it". Her fingers held tightly to the plastic water bottle and her right knee bounced nervously as she glanced from me to the other faces around the table then back down at the bottle. It was as if she was gaining energy from that bottle, the label peeled off many minutes ago and the water emptied many minutes before that. You could see tears on the edge of her lower eyelids, ready to spill over any second. She swallowed and then glanced up at me one more time.

I met her eyes and asked "What would be worth it?"

Her answer was quick. "Nothing. Ever. I'm not going through this again."

I've been in this situation all too many times.

While she was referring to theft, the subject of our conversation could be anything - anything we compromise ourselves in doing, in being, in living the life we own.

In what do we find worth it? What is valuable? What are we willing to compromise. And for what? A fleeting moment of pleasure? That rush of excitement and thrill to break us out of our boredom? To embrace a moment of feeling alive?

Have we become robots? Have we become zombies? (Gah, I detest the term... those darn movies have annoyed me).

It's as if we walk around doing what we feel we should do instead of what we want to do? Are we caught in some assembly-line life because we're obligated to it? What if we broke out of that dead-man-walking line and escaped to the zig-zag pathway of less walked terrain and truly experienced something different?

Who are the Jones' and why do we have to keep up with them? Why does culture define the age we make choices and the path those choices are supposed to take us? I've read "dare to be different" so many times, nodded my head in agreement, stomped my foot in affirmation and then received a reprimand for following through on that dare.

Why aren't we living? Why are we numbing ourselves and then complaining about the lack of feeling?

We need to find our worth. We need to find our value -- in who we are. Not in our circumstances. Not in events. Not in people. In us. We need to find it in ourselves - in who we were made to be. Not in our job title or resume descriptions. In who you are. In the child of God that you were created as. In the fact that God loved you FIRST. In who He made you to be. You. Who YOU are...

Find life in yourself.

And live it.