I’m feeling somewhat nostalgic today.
Maybe I’m missing my little girl (she left this morning on a road trip with my mom and will be gone
gasp four days).
Maybe my house is way too quiet.
Most likely, though, my being sick for almost an entire week has left me feeling emotionally vulnerable and isolated.
I don’t think I’ve been sick for an entire week before. My sister thinks I had whooping cough so I started on antibiotics. Nights were the worst. My coughing was so bad every muscle between my ribs cried out in agony each time another rasp would start. It’s been rough.
This morning I woke up, and my first thought was: “I think I’m better today…”
Now it’s almost 4pm, and I still think I’m better. This makes me exceedingly grateful.
But as I sit here at the computer, entering receipts and emailing an old friend, I’m overwhelmed by the depth of friendships I’ve shared over the years.
Seasons of unfamiliarity and shyness, stepping out in boldness to meet new people, joining book clubs and moms groups to form connections, sharing prayers and pregnancies, negotiating marriage challenges and personal growth, experiencing forgiveness and regret….
…and then moving away to start all over again in a new town, at a new church, with new people.
And recognizing that true intimacy takes time. It takes sowing seeds, and watering, and waiting, and one day turning and seeing growth in areas you didn’t intentionally plant ~ and feeling delighted about the discovery. It takes proximity, and grace, and breaking free from insecurities.
It takes appreciating the current season for the potential it holds, the hope it carries, the intimacy it will eventually birth.
Never for one moment forgetting the precious intimacies I’ve shared in the past.