Everybody needs a friend

So I moved to a new city in a new state and have been trying to start a new life. The being married to David part of that life is wonderful--and has even exceeded my expectations. I can't say enough about the advantages of getting married when you are older, hopefully wiser, and yes, more loving and gracious. It's not for everyone, but as for David and I, we feel infinitely blessed.

As for friends

But as the weeks roll by, and I try to settle in a bit more each day, acclimating to my new surroundings, I find myself wishing for a friend, or two, or three. I left such amazing people behind when I moved, that it's hard to imagine forming deep, stimulating relationships here.

As one girlfriend from my old haunt put it, "You need a girl you can call to get ice cream with." I'd also love to find a spiritual mentor; a book lover; a funny fun-to-hang out with sort, and another who sees the importance of a long walk surrounded by nature.

But as my sister put it last night, when you move to a new place, you have to take the initiative to get involved. The reason is that everyone else is settled into their life, their routine, and their relationships. They don't really have a compelling need to form a relationship, whether surface or deep, with you. Wow.

So, lest you think I'm despairing and hopeless about this situation, I'm not. Just the other day, three women from our church contacted me. Yes, all on the same day. Two reached out of their own volition; the third received a call from my concerned husband. Years ago that would have ticked me off--today I'm happy to admit my need for connection. And so thankful that David cares enough to do something about it.

So anyway, I will call this kind woman back, and we will probably do coffee or something. I imagine she will be happy to tell me where to get a good haircut, who the best doctors are, where the closest farmer's market is, etc. And I will be exceedingly grateful.

And then came Father's Day

I skipped the church service last Sunday. Just couldn't bear the thought of sitting through a sermon about dads and honoring them, since my dad has gone on to heaven since this time last year.

So we showed up for Sunday School instead, in our wonderful little class, and I felt so alone, missing my friends in Michigan. No one knew me enough to know how much I was hurting from the pain of Father's Day, and I can't really blame them. But it still hurt.

Even David, though he's been so persistent in getting to know me for the last year now, didn't know Dad and doesn't share my history. I was seriously missing those who know me on a deep level, who understand the pain of my loss.

And late that afternoon, while David was off visiting his dad, I let the tears flow and remembered the moments I spent with dad on Father's Day just one year ago. And the tears ended with a really heartfelt prayer, thanking my heavenly Father for the beautiful, good memories I have. Nothing left unsaid or undone. Just knowing my daddy always loved me and I loved him. And that is a serious blessing, and one that I don't take for granted. I cried out of a thankful heart. Tears over missing him, but tears of joy, too.

Branching out

This weekend, in an attempt to cast my net out for friendships, I'm going to a book club Sunday evening. It meets at a local coffee shop and sounds like it will be a group of young moms. I'm not quite sure how I might fit in, but I will give it a try.

A dear couple I know through my former employer took us out to dinner last Friday night, and we talked their ears off for three hours! I will meet with the wife next Tuesday am for coffee, at her invitation. Their kindness to us has meant more than words can say.

A birthday

David turns 43 on Sunday, but keeps insisting he doesn't do birthdays anymore. I know better. Every person, no matter their age, deserves to be celebrated for the amazing, unique person God created them to be.

He married a girl who celebrates. And I think he couldn't be happier. So, to remind him his birthday's comin', I decorated a gift bag that says "43 looks good on me!" I covered it with adjectives about who he is--faithful, respected, hard-working, fun-loving, etc. Now he has to stare at it next to his bed until his birthday dinner Saturday night. Oh, the suspense...

Final note: in case you were wondering, David is the real cook in the family and will make his own cake and a dinner of grilled snapper with mango relish, with a little bit of help. Not because he has to, this man really wants to spend some time in the kitchen. God's been so very good to me!!! :)