Adult friendships are hard. Like, REALLY hard.

"...I'm already divided between a husband, two kids, my job, my chores and the 10 minutes I desperately wish I had to unwind. If we could skip the small talk and fall in friendship-at-first-sight, I might have a chance at that Carrie Bradshaw gaggle of besties. Until then, I'll be the one at the movies by myself, hoping an equally lonely 30-something with great shoes plops down beside me."
~Ashley Austrew

Making friends has never been easy for me. Some would blame it on being homeschooled, but I can say with confidence that is not the reason. I am ...unique? I'm the introverted extrovert who puts on the good show for a crowd but tends to hold people at arm's length. I'm just odd. I have a fun, but twisted personality and very few people earn the right to be a part of my inner circle. I'm the quiet one they always say to watch out for. Once I feel comfortable enough around someone to unleash all the wonderfulness I have inside, they might not be able to handle it.

I've had some very close, fantastic friendships over the years and I still treasure those people, but as much as I want to cling to my college friendships or to my high school ones even, they were for a season, and THAT'S OK. Not every friendship, even the really good ones, are meant to last a lifetime. This is a hard-learned lesson for me. Once I do let you onto my world enough to really know me, my expectation is that you remain there forever. Many tears have been shed over the years when those expectations have not been met.

Actually, that expectation has only held up once for me. I met my closest adult friend when I was in third grade. Despite not living near one another since adolescence and only actually seeing one another in person a hand full of times since then, she is my person. She gets me. We are the same kid of weird and twisted. Despite being raised apart, we are eerily similar in many ways. There was a brief time when as adults we only lived an hour apart. This was heaven. I got to know her kids and husband and really fall in love with her family - right before she moved across the country.

My experience of an absentee best friend has warped my ability to have close friendships with people near me. I don't know what it is to have a friend just drop by to see me. I've only met a friend for coffee twice in my adult years and I've never kept a friend's kids. For that matter, Because they live across the state, I've never even kept my own sister's kids. Shoot, with the exception of my absentee friend, I haven't even gone shopping with a friend since college. My expectation of a perfect friendship is the ability to send a text, rather it is good, bad, happy, sad, or simply a picture of how incredibly horrible I look that day, and expect an appropriate, gratifying response and reciprocation. As a person who has known me 99% of my life, I can be as weird as I need to be and know that I won't scare her off. I love our relationship, but I need more. She has supported me through the worst life has thrown at me, and I love her like a sister, but I need physical arms to hug me. I need another mom who has also waded through a discarded diaper and it's contents that day to site with me, have that cup of coffee and just laugh. Is that even real life? Does that exist? Can I expect that from an adult relationship?

Adult friendships are hard. Like, REALLY hard. Now that I am a mom, I find that they are even harder. The only place I see people is at bible study, and while it is nice, and I enjoy the ladies, they don't know me and I really don't know them. I feel like asking one of them to a coffee date would be much like a high school boy asking a girl who is way out of his league to prom. I have no experience in this area. Besides, in order to have a conversation over my favorite beverage, and actually really enjoy it, both of us would have to find someone to watch our kids -and that's just too much work. A park date could work, but the few times I've tried to meet moms at the park have turned into them enjoying one another and me, and my anxiety, trailing my son making sure he doesn't kill himself on the crazy equipment. (Or run into the street chasing the tractor that is mowing the green space - yes, he has tried to do that) I guess I could try the unthinkable and have someone into my home, but I can't guarantee how clean it will be, or that there won't be a dog poop on the playroom floor. I feel like having a first mom date at my house would be like going to 2nd base with a stranger. *No thank you* Going to their house is even more out of the question. I would hate to end our date forking over cash for the family heirloom my son managed to break.

Besides, I mean, how do you DO it? What does it look like? Do you have one 'date', decide it's not a relationship you are willing to pursue, and not call them back? *AWKWARD* Do you move through your circle of moms, speed dating until you find your person, leaving behind you a trail of moms thinking you are completely and utterly weird? Do you forgo that idea of your mommy BFF, and settle for anything that has a pony tail and can drink coffee?

All of this has been going through my mind today. As I sat pondering it, I began to question why I feel such a need for affirmation and love from a source I can't even define. Do I need companionship that understands the phase of life I am in right now? Do I need someone I can be weird and childish with? Am I just looking for a person who can help me justify making that second pot of coffee (because I drank the first pot before noon - by myself) Am I looking for a built-in friend for my son? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe there is a bit of truth in all of those reasons. No matter the reason, I came to the conclusion that no human can satisfy me in the soul satisfying way I need. Only my Heavenly Father can be everything I need. I don't know when, or even if, I will even find someone I can truly be MBF (Mom Best Friends) with, and I'm ok with that.

Just like other areas of my life, being ok with it doesn't mean I won't occasionally regret it or have days where I wished it weren't that way, but I am overall ok with God's plan and timing. He has a purpose for my life and my relationships, and it is bigger than I can even imagine. Worrying and obsessing over it won't change anything. I was reminded today how thankful I am for my one dear friend who loves me and how lucky I am to have her in my life.

God bottles up the prayers of his saints to be distributed when they are needed

"To be a Christian without prayer is no more possible than to be alive without breathing."
~Martin Luther

Our pastor has been doing a sermon series on prayer. He covered why we need to pray and how to pray. He started an initiative for being ONE at ONE as a church. We pause at 1pm, pray the Lord's Prayer and then pray about anything else we need to for a minute. This is simple, yet effective. There is a great sense of camaraderie and unity in knowing we are all praying at once. Last week, as the series finale, the church was invited to share about answered prayers. It was amazing to hear so many stories of God working in the lives of our congregation.

As I sat there listening, I felt impressed to share my story of answered prayer. I knew I needed to share, but I was incredibly nervous. I can speak in front of people, I've done it all my life, but speaking of something so personal always makes me cry. I couldn't cry in front of everyone - how embarrassing. As an added challenge to sharing, we were asked to keep it under 2 minutes. Trying to fit my testimony into two minutes and to keep it on the subject of answered prayer and not get off topic seemed nearly impossible.

As I sat, wringing my hands and waiting for my turn at the mike, I tried to think of what I would say but my mind went blank. The person before me was nearing the end of their time and I was tempted to panic. Instead, I whispered a quick prayer for the right words and stepped up to the mike. That I was even able to form an intelligent sentence was in itself answered prayer. Here is what I shared, or something like it:

"I come from a praying family. I have always been told that God bottles up the prayers of his saints to be distributed when they are needed. I am incredibly thankful for those prayers. I was going through a rough patch. When we were married a year, my husband had a terrible car accident. To this day he suffers from his injuries. This resulted in enormous strains, physically, emotionally and financially. Add to this, a diagnosis of infertility, and It felt like my life was spiraling out of control. At the risk of sounding like a spoiled child, my life was nothing like I had ever imagined it. I felt trapped. I was depressed and at the end of any rope I might have had.

One day I sat, just holding a bible that was given to me by my great-grandfather. I didn't know where to open it to, I just held it. I opened it to the front cover and read the note he had written to me. It told of how proud he was of me and reminded me that he had prayed for me every day of my life, something he had told me many times through the years. I remember breaking down and sobbing. I don't think I ever did open the bible to read it that day. I called my mom to tell her about that note and how grateful I was for it. I needed prayers and love more than I could say, and I really believe that those daily prayers prayed by a faithful man of God were poured out on me even when I didn't have the faith myself to carry me through or to even pray.

Nothing drastic changed immediately, we looked into adoption and foster care and found out that, at least for the time, those options were not for us. We wanted to pursue fertility treatments, but could not afford them. We continued with life as best we could. Fast forward quite a while, and we received a settlement from the wreck. That money was enough to pay off our medical debts, get IVF, make a nursery and go on a much-needed vacation. Praise God, our IVF worked, and on the first try. Our little boy is almost two.

Through the process there were many answered prayers, and I did learn to pray myself, but I truly believe that it was the prayers of faithful grandparents, parents and other loving family and friends that got us through."

It felt wonderful to share my story, in person, and to see people's reactions and feel encouraged. Sharing on my blog is great, and I have been told that I have helped many people and I know God can use written words, but to stuff down the fear and to share what God has done with a group of your peers and fellow believers is completely different. Online I have a certain anonymity and I get to carefully choose my words and craft sentences to fully convey my meaning. In person, I just have to be real. I have to trust that the words coming from my lips are correct and true. In person, emotion is conveyed that gets lost in print.

After walking back to my seat, I felt more a part of the church body. I shared a piece of my heart with them, and they didn't throw it back at me. They rejoiced with me and I even saw some tears in the congregation. Being a part of a church body is about so much more than just attending service once a week. Church is family. Church is a body of people united in a common purpose and in prayer for one another. I am so grateful to be a part of such a church.