Sinda, Jordan, Liz, Susan, and Val

Well, I find myself, oddly, with friends. Real friends. We go out to dinner once or twice a month, and when we do, we often stay up ridiculously late. We watch each others’ kids, have each other over for lunches, plan the ward’s enrichment together, tease each other, and have even taken boudoir shoots together. We share ourselves and find in each others’ company that we are richer and real-er together than we are on our own.

I can’t say I’d have necessarily chosen them on my own. But they chose me, and I’m happy and flattered they did. It’s chatty and casual, but despite the somewhat airy nature to the dialogue, there’s real love betwixt us all, and it’s moving to feel so loved. Women are caretakers and nurturers. But we’re still little girls, and sometimes we all need to feel there’s someone nearby to take care of us when we have the need.

Sinda is a thinker, and I don’t think I’d feel like I belonged among them were it not for her. But because of her, I’m integral: I know Jordan’s deep secrets and Liz’s, too, which surprises me. I never expect to have others confide in me, but it seems to happen a bit. So I don’t doubt that I belong, and am valued. Which is nice. There’s something about me — I say it’s just something about long term SAHM-ing — that leaves you wondering if you possibly could have a contribution to make; if you have more value to anyone beyond just the tasks you accomplish. And because of them, I feel more confident that I do have something to add.

It’s been years — YEARS, probably since before I ever got married — since I’ve had good friends. Well, okay. In the interest of full disclosure, Lolly and Josh were awesomely close to us for several years. I’d like it if I felt close to them again, but things feel somewhat dampered by waiting a decade before sharing themselves. But that’s for another day. And I guess there was Alisha McDonald and Jen Marrott. But as wonderful as they are, and as close as we were, it was a professional relationship. We hung out plenty at school — but not much outside of it.

Point being: There’s never been another Amanda or Susan a la DHS; never another Steph or Tera a la SUU. Face it: I’ve been without friends for a long time. So since making these new friends, I’m finding more people are shallow than not. Okay, that definitely came out wrong. Sorry. But it’s kind of true. Maybe I just need more friends closer to thirty than twenty; maybe that’s all. But at any rate, the way I hear them approaching their problems, I just don’t hear the kind of depth, the kind of reaching for compassion and God with which I can empathize deeply. I get having little kids; I get wanting to be pregnant. (Really!) I get being frustrated with bosses, and working out the complexities of marriage, and of just wanting a day off, or to be allowed to call in sick sometimes to motherhood. And I like sharing that with them. But there’s other, deeper thoughts I’d like to share and hear. Many times those thoughts originate in aspects of our lives we all share together, of course. But I do wish there was more substance to our time together occasionally.

It makes me glad I have Jennie Buchert, for sure. Thank heavens for her.

And I should add, just as many times, they help me see myself for the over-serious creature I can be, and I realize how desperately I need the lightheartedness they bring. It’s a gift. And one that is straight from the Lord. I am so grateful for all the diversity on this planet — how sorely I need it!

Val

P.S. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I haven’t written in forever. And nobody reads this thing any more. Well, maybe I’ll abandon it again for a few more years. But I hope not. I hope I’m ready to abandon fear, to abandon others’ expectations (and my own — of failure!) and just let this thing be. Just breathe in and out, and quiet myself enough to let my heart be heard.