In three months I will be thirty-five years old.
THIRTY-FIVE.
That seems so hard to believe since most days I still feel like an adolescent who is taking deep breaths before walking into a gymnasium of my peers before school starts wondering how the day is going to go.
Since that time in my life, I have had many different friend groups, and I got sad the other day because I realized that I don't have a "friend group". Like, maybe I have a character flaw that causes me to shed friends quicker than my sweet doggie love Fireball sheds hair.
I am a firm believer in seasons and reasons. You're in my life for a season and a reason even if it's not lifelong. Yet with this thought firmly fixed in my mind, I found out in my time with God that it is necessary to grieve the loss of those people who started the journey with me but dropped off before I could realize my greatest hopes that I at one point shared with them.
So I paused.
I laughed at good times.
I asked God if I had handled them well.
I asked God if I had handled myself well.
I cried because seasons ended.
I smiled because there is still life beyond those seasons.
As I allowed emotions to wash over me, I had a friend who texted me the results from some testing regarding her health. We shared in a moment of gratefulness that everything was well. I ended up on the phone with another friend talking about her engagement. Then I received a voice note with updates about another friend who had just closed on her new home. I soon got another text from a friend who told me she's ready to love again after a breakup.
I soon realized something. While all of these friends are scattered and do not form this one big friend group that I thought I needed, I do have friends. I have great friends. These friendships span from five to seventeen years. And as I get older, I am seeing the value that each of these relationships bring to my life. They show up for me in different ways.
The truth is: I am loved well through the friendships God has blessed me with.
It's not the Golden Girls.
It's not Girlfriends.
It's not Living Single.
It's not Harlem.
It's not Sistas (Thank God).
But it is me having a solid few people who share in life's moments with me, good or bad. Giving me a shoulder to cry on or a cooked meal during grief or sending me a random text saying "I'm proud of you for kicking anxiety's behind," or a Christmas card in my P.O. Box every year... these are the moments I almost let slip away because my friend circle wasn't in the formation of which I had always hoped.
But I have friends. Great ones.
Scattered.
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