Sunday, June 24, 2012

when friendship is like my favorite pair of jeans

Many refer to the city I live in as the black hole. Those of us who come here for college or seminary try desperately to not get stuck here or sucked back in. I left for parts unknown after graduation, only to be sucked back in a couple of years later for The Hubs to go to school. And seven years later we. are. still. here.

As hard as that is to accept some days, living just a couple of miles from my alma mater has it's advantages. This week one of my college friends is in town for missions training, and another friend decided to drive five or six hours to come visit us.
What is it about old friends that make you feel completely at ease?  Lunch and the conversation was like putting on my favorite pair of jeans. Nine years post-graduation and just some facebook messages and a few visits in between, we picked up where we left off. These are the girls with whom I would go on ice cream runs with at ten o'clock at night in the freezing rain. These are the ones with whom I chatted with for hours in our mint green painted dorm rooms  eating Papa John's and listening to the beloved Sara Groves sing about life and faith and questions.  These are the girls who have prayed for me and with me, who have made me laugh when the tears were too much and made me laugh so hard I would cry on a pretty regular basis. We had seasons where we drove each other crazy, attitudes and behaviors that rocked our relationships at times, but we have been shaped and changed for the better.

On Saturday we sat at Ruby Tuesdays eating salad. I couldn't help but think how much we had changed and yet how much we were still those nineteen year old girls, asking the tough questions and laughing at ridiculousness.  I saw beauty and depth and strength and wisdom in my friends this weekend. I remembered our hopes and dreams for our days on Walther 2nd South, and over lunch I breathed in our questions and aspirations for the days ahead.  I wanted to box it all up and take it home with me, to open whenever I needed reminding about who I am at my core.

They say you can't go home again, but this weekend was pretty darn close.

1 comment:

  1. I only graduated from there two years's funny how eager we all were to get out of there, but find ourselves longing for the moments when five, or six, or eight of us were all perched upon one of those little twin beds-dreaming of the future.


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