This weekend, one of my old girlfriends started what I like to call the "chain reaction email". We've all done this for several years now--a group of us that grew up together have, since our high school days, all taken different directions in life. I live here in California, another lives in Utah, another in Idaho, another in Arizona and yet another in Texas. Consequently, we don't see each other much. But we're still important to each other, and we keep up to date as much as we can through blogs and said emails.
Anyway, one of them mentioned that her little brother (who is still a 5th grader in my mind) is graduating from high school this spring. Another friend replied, "Blake's graduating?. . .When did we get so old?"
So let me explain my conundrum. Of these five girls, we are now all married, and four of us have children. Everyone else has only one child. Hayden, the oldest besides my kids, is 2 1/2, the other two are still babies. So I've been married 5 years and have three kids, including one in school, while all my closest friends I grew up with have been married somewhere between 2 and 4 years and have one small child. This makes me feel rather aged--kind of "ahead of the game", I guess, with that group. Its a little strange having 2 kids before your friends have any (or before they're even married). Its really nice that they have kids now, because for a while there, it made me feel like I was living in a bit of a different world. Because, let's face it, life is different after you have a baby. Right, ladies? :) Goodness I love you guys!
Now switch to my life in Lindsay. I feel like such a baby here. All of my friends here are 5-25 years older than me, almost all of them have 2-5 more children than I do, with the oldest kids in high school. I constantly feel like I'm a little "behind". Fortunately, even the people I spend the most time with completely forget the age difference (until they bring up some subject about which I am clueless and I have to say, "Sorry, I don't remember that--I was only about 5 or 6". Then they smile or laugh and ask me what year I was born and then laugh again and tell me how weird that is:) ).
I guess my point here in this rambling, semi-sensical mess, is that being "stuck in the middle"--not relating one to one with anyone in either group of friends--has been a strangely beneficial thing to me. I am not a very competitive person by nature, nor have I ever had any kind of social ambitiousness about me, but it is human nature to want to compare ourselves to others around us, particularly persons in similar situations as ourselves, or close to our own age. Not lining up too well with anybody around has been a constant reminder to not measure myself against anyone else. "Ahead" or "behind" doesn't matter--I'm right where I am supposed to be. I may not be able to relate to Angie's tweenager headaches, but I can relate to her pregnancy aches and her toddler tantrums. Callie might not be able to relate to watching my 4 year old make my baby smile, but she can certainly relate to my elation over watching my curious baby learn new things everyday (and Laura can certainly relate to toddler tantrums and 2 year olds who have missed their naps--oh, Sam and Callie, the joys that await you! I wish you the best of luck with your already very busy little boys! :) ).
I was always a little weird. I learned early on that as much as I wanted to fit quietly into the background and to have deep emotional connections to certain people, many of things I wanted were going to require me to stand alone, and at times make me feel or appear a bit alien. That was uncomfortable for a while (and still is in moments), but I am so grateful that I made the decisions I did. And, more than that, I am grateful that the Lord never let me stand truly alone. Since finding Doug, I have never felt the sometimes terrible loneliness that would sneak up on me when I was younger. The connection I have to him is something bigger and deeper than I ever hoped to have with anyone--more than I ever thought was possible, actually. I am more comfortable with him than I believed I could be with anyone. To feel so completely safe and understood with another human being is a privileged gift indeed. If I ever lost him, God forbid, I'd probably remain single til I died, because the conversations and quiet understandings that we have are hard to even imagine ever finding with someone else.
But before that, the Lord always put wonderful people in my life to take the edge off. There was Brett and Erica--who understood so well and never stopped reaching out to and praying for me. Their patience was amazing. There was John, who didn't always understand but was always supportive, whether it was a hug or a happy wink or a teary conversation (how important it was to have someone in life back then I wasn't ashamed to cry in front of), he was always happy to give. There was Sam. Our friendship has gone through several revolutions, but has meant more to me than any other friend I have ever had. She had no sisters, and my sisters were a fair amount older than me and closer to each other, and she filled that gap for me. She became my unofficial sister, and in many ways I still feel much closer to her than I do to my own sisters. To have someone (other than my wonderful Doug) to whom I can speak openly about the things I feel the most deeply is a precious gift I try never to take for granted.
The Lord knows me well and has always provided me with exactly what I needed when I needed it (even if I was too much of a dunce to realize it until after the fact). Independence is over rated. We ought to be independent enough to make our up our own mind in a responsible manner and take care of those under our stewardship, but something that frequent independence (being "outside the group", so to speak) has taught me is that there is much to be gained from accepting our dependence on one another (and ultimately on the Lord, of course). There is no shame in being different, of course, when the situation is such. But there is no shame in fitting in, either. Sometimes, that can be our greatest blessing.
What was I talking about? I got off track here. I guess my point is, I'm OK with (and even grateful for) the ways in which I'm different--not just in number of years married or number of children born, but everything else, too. But I'm also OK with and quite grateful for the ways that we're the same. I love those moments when I open my mouth and hear one of my sisters or my Mom in my voice. I love the things I have in common with my wonderful friends. I'm grateful to the Lord for the people in my life and the things I share in common with them. For those connection in life that matter, and for the trust I have in Him that those connections do not end when this life is over.
1 comment:
I know what you mean about feeling caught in the middle at times. All of our friends here are at least 5 years older than I am. Most of our friends now have children, but some are in their teenage years too. They often forget that David and I are so much younger and are amazed again at just how "young" I am. It is kind of comical really.
I am grateful, though, for the friends who have gone through things (especially with children) that I have not yet gone through. I rely on their wisdom more than anyone could possibly know. I look at my 10 month old babe and think, "Where did my newborn go? How did you become so stubborn? How is it possible for you to be throwing temper tantrums already?" Then, I take a deep breath and know it'll be okay because I am not alone.
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