Tag Archives: friendship

Happy Birthday to Me

Birthdays. I had one WAY back on Wednesday, December 13, 1967.  I hear it was pretty great, but I don’t remember much about it. 

When I was a little girl, I loved celebrating the anniversary of that day.  When I was a big girl, I loved it even more.  But this year, I dreaded it. A LOT.  I wasn’t anxious because I’m afraid of growing old. I was apprehensive because I was gifted a year that I didn’t deserve.

You see, my extraordinary sister-in-law was supposed to turn 57 in October, less than two months before I would, but it didn’t happen. She will never be 57. Twenty-two days before her 57th birthday, her body stopped dying and her heavenly life started. Her work on earth was done, and that beautiful, young soul is now ageless and celebrating EVERY day in Paradise.   

Because I tend to cling to limited, earth-blinders, I prepared for my 57th birthday to strangle me in a warped type of survivor’s guilt.  While Trayona was sick, I asked God numerous times if I could trade with her.  I know I’m loved and appreciated here on earth, but I’ll be honest: Most days I tend to barely survive rather than live vibrantly in my calling. On the contrary, Trayona lived well and spent every single day striving to mold herself into a better person. She deserved life so much more than most of us.

(To my concerned armchair therapist, I know truth. I trust God’s will. I love my people, and I know I am loved by lots of people, which I realize is a gift in itself. Moreover, I know Trayona is the real winner in all of this, and that trading with me would mean I would now be living in glory and she would still be fighting through this challenging existence on planet Earth. But unreasonable feelings are really hard to fight, aren’t they?)

I would love to tell you that a moment of revelation or a Bible verse shined brightly on my 57th birthday, morphing me into a much wiser person. That didn’t happen, but it was a nice day full of lots of love and affirmation, and when I laid my head on my pillow that night, I felt thankful. 

What does it mean to me to be granted one more year on planet Earth? It means my work isn’t done. It means I am still needed here and I still have things to do, people to love, and hope to spread. 

And apparently, you’re still here too, so guess what? You have things to do, people to love, and hope to spread. 

It’s Not You. It’s Me.

I signed up for a women’s Bible study at my new church.  I’m not sure what I was expecting, but after a few meetings, I’ve got to be honest: My thoughts are in a mixed-up, battling jumble right about now.  

The problem (if you’d call it a problem) isn’t the study itself. We’re trekking through the book of Philippians, and I’m learning tons.  My favorite thing I’ve encountered so far? The Message version of the Bible translates Philippians 1:21 like this:

“Alive I am Christ’s messenger; dead I am His prize. Life vs. even more life! I can’t lose.”

Good stuff right there!

Another definite win is that I finally solidified the spelling of “Philippians” into my longterm memory. One “L” but two “P”s. Now if only I can learn to spell “definite” without spellcheck since I definitely use “definite” all the time (though, in all actuality, it’s really not that difficult to spell!).

The study is great. My soul-fluster surrounding my new Bible class arises solely from my own insecurity and anxiety of creating longish-term connections with strangers. 

Most of the people in my life have been there for decades. Every so often, a new person is taken into the fold, but for the most part, my people know me. They know my strengths and like me. They know my weaknesses and like me anyway. I am quite good at setting boundaries between myself and those who stir up trouble, consequently, when I step out into my world, confidence in my relationships isn’t something I battle. I love my people. A lot. And they seem to like me okay as well.

When I signed up for the Bible study, I did so because there is something profound and powerful in studying God’s Word with a small group of seekers. The first week, I left the class floating on Cloud Nine from the study AND my new spiritual comrades.  Those twelve-ish women are encouraging and inspiring and they love Jesus. They were so fantastic, in fact, that the hope of new friendships corded with God left me three-strand-gluttonous and (a bit too) excited and eager.

Time ticked on, and week one of Bible study unfolded into week two.  

When I left Bible study that second week, I was… euphoric. Those women acknowledged me and my struggles, and they lifted me up in a way only a great group of friends can. It didn’t matter that the only one I heard call me by name called me Dėserėe instead of Deidre. New friendships showed shadows of beginnings, and my soul was happy.

But last night was week three, and I’ve got to tell you, I’m not so optimistic. Don’t misunderstand me. Those gals are great. They’re smart and godly and encouraging, but my hope of friend-hoarding went AWOL, and I’m kind of sad about that. The wall I felt between them and I was palpable. 

Who put the wall up? Though I’d like to point fingers, I am sure it was unknowingly me: my wall of weirdness. I am well aware that I can be irritatingly odd, especially when I try in my own strength to make someone see good in me. I take up more than my fair share of space in this world. I try so hard to remain authentic and real, but my unchecked enthusiasm punctuated with my humongous, toothy smile is way too much for most, and some only see manufactured zealousness and swiftly label me a phony. Yes, I know how I come across. I tend to be a cartoon, especially if you don’t know me.  

Blog posts in and of themselves don’t generally cure cancer or end wars or fix personality flaws, and I don’t feel pressed to have all the answers for you or for me. The only way I could convince myself to dust off the old blog is by reminding myself that putting my jumbled thoughts down into words often has the magical ability of unraveling some of my anxieties and unsurities and insecurities. I don’t expect answers here, and you shouldn’t either.  But I think I have settled into some truth from this particular rollercoaster.

First of all, this sideroad of the past three weeks compels me to remember how many healthy, encouraging friendships I already have. To have even one good friend is a huge blessing in this broken world of ours, and I generally don’t take my people for granted. I truly am so grateful for what I already have. Why am I so greedy in the friendship arena? Because I’m human? And I like friends? I don’t see that changing any time soon.

Another profound revelation from my muddleness is that it’s not fair to place giant expectations (or even smallish ones) on others I barely know. Those poor women at the Bible study went there to learn more about Jesus with others who love Jesus.  They did not sign up to coddle a needy, pitiful ruffian. 

So there you go: Regardless of all of the miracles I experience daily, I am still a needy pitiful ruffian wanting more and more and more. God is working on that, and to help Him out a bit… I think I’ll go back to Bible study.