Boulevard Park 1996. Back when we didn’t except Woods coffee.

I embarked on a fitness journey this last year. Jesse and I joined an awesome local gym that partners with my work. It builds me up and grows my muscles day by day. But I’m slowly realizing, you can always be stronger. The training doesn’t end. It never stops. I wanted to climb the rope. Done. Now I want to climb the rope faster. I wanted to lift my heels to the bar. Now I want to do it without jumping first. I celebrate for a minute when I reach my goal, and then I have to acknowledge there’s more to accomplish. Because your strength grows when you’re in a process of breaking and rebuilding. It’s good to work hard and accomplish goals. Yet, I am constantly aware that there’s still farther to go. It’s motivating and maddening.

Grief, I’m finding is no easier. Some days I just want to be done with it. To stop the suffering and pain and loss. To break up with it and have a clean break. To not find it punctuating every aspect of my life. To talk with my friends about our “parents” and how they drive us “crazy.” To have a functioning parental unit.  To look back at old pictures and simply sigh at the times gone by, instead of feeling tears choking in my throat. If only it was as easy as climbing a rope. If only you could train and be done, and then I’d finally be satisfied. If only we were made to be that simple. We are made in the image of God, however, so we don’t have the luxury of an easy, simple life. That would mean God is simple and does not experience the depths of loss and love. We are complex and intricate people who feel the acute sense that this world is not our home. We can’t stay here forever.

Genesis 19:17
When they had brought them outside, one said, “Escape for your life! Do not look behind you, and do not stay anywhere in the valley; escape to the mountains, or you will be swept away.”

Sometimes I find myself wishing to be my pre-grief self. Free of stretch marks from the weight I gained while eating grief casseroles (metaphorically and literally). I’ve since lost the “weight,” but those marks remind me of what happened. They’re scars, in a way. I found that when I start to struggle with my own body image, I’m usually struggling with grief and/or transitions in my life. I don’t really hate how I look, or think all my clothes are terrible, and that I would be better off as a troll under a bridge (you’ve probably had one of those days too). Really, what I’m saying is, “I’m not comfortable with this new normal,” “I’m not comfortable in this world where she isn’t.” It all boils down to, do I really believe I’m made in the image of God? Am I thankful for the person he’s making me into? Or am I going to rebel and seek to steal, kill, and destroy this gift I’ve been given?

Isaiah 61:3 ESV
To grant to those who mourn in Zion— to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.

How do I grow as a woman apart from her? I can be trapped in the lie that if I return to a previous version of myself, all my current problems will disappear. I don’t want to move on, but I’m propelled forward whether I embrace it or not. Time can be viewed as either a cruel teacher, or a persistent trainer.

At first, I started going to Terrain (the gym’s name) just to prove to myself I could do it and have something in common with some of my coworkers. Then, as my body started to change I realized that I was starting to get caught in the trap of vanity. I found myself looking forward to going back to my old pair of jeans. My Mom had complimented me on these jeans. Then the jeans got a hole in them and I had to throw them out and Jesse just shook his head cause it was a TRAUMATIC experience for my hoarder heart. “I know you really love those jeans, but it’s time to throw them away,” he told me. What I really needed to throw out was my broken mentality. I thought the point of exercise was to return to who you were before (which is impossible). Change happens and then we must choose to transition onward.

I thought that the point of working through your grief was to return to who you were before. That mentality steals, kills, and destroys. Even if I hadn’t lost my Mom, I still can’t be the same person I was. The point is to be refined and grow into the strong, powerful, and beautiful woman of God I’m called to be in this part of the story. This is our inheritance.

Ephesians 4:22-24 ESV
To put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.

This week my friend Emily Flanagan shares her experience of saying “yes” to awkward first dates. Emily is fierce in her friendships and will make you nachos when you have a bad day (the best, right?). If you have a chance you should check out her awesome blog too: emnoflan.wordpress.com

I bet you read this title and thought that I was going to talk about my adventures in dating apps or a set up by a couple of well-meaning friends that didn’t result in a second date but did get my french fries paid for… which is a win in my book. Well sorry to disappoint but the date I’m talking about isn’t the one that ends with a future spouse. But that’s right folks – I’m talking about the awkward first FRIEND dates.

Making new friends as an adult is a skill that few are good at and the rest of us just stumble through until you find a group of people who don’t judge you for the amount of times you eat Chipotle throughout any given week. If you’re extremely skilled at making new friends as an adult, then you are a unicorn. Because making new friends all grown up is about as enjoyable as a middle school dance: you know later you’ll look back with fond memories of bonding over weird pop music during this time but when you’re in it you’re just painfully aware of literally every insecurity you have.

I knew that my topic needed to revolve around pursuing new friendships as an adult when Katrina asked me to participate in Summer of Yes. This is because of the rant above, but also because I am a woman of my word. In order to put my Flanagan Stamp of Approval on something then I have to actually do it, and making new friends has been something I’ve been avoiding for too long.

Because entering any relationship – friendship, romantic, or even working – is scary! You must risk being seen long enough to be known, which means all your mess is out there in the open. When you’re that exposed, you risk being hurt by not being enough. It’s an irrational fear because we’re all just a collage of weird and beautiful experiences making us into who we are. The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve learned how nervous everyone is to be found out that they mess up and sometimes they let people down. I feel that. All the way down in my guts, I feel that. I would rather play it safe alone in my introverted corner, protected but not satisfied.

I’m glad I know a God who far more often tells me to be brave rather than to be careful. And to build community you’ve got to show up. So I sent a text to some people I’ve been wanting to get to know better, I went on few awkward coffee dates, and we’ll probably hang out again in a few weeks when we’re free. Because we all know life speeds up and slows down all at once when you’re 24. When I got home I did a little happy dance because I did it! The Awkward First Date was done!

But then I realized that just because you go on an Awkward First Date, that means there might be an Awkward Second Date. Or Third Date or Fourth involving other people (contrary to popular belief, I DO NOT thrive in large groups and my awkward turns into overcompensating… it’s equally hilarious and mortifying for everyone). When does the newness stop and you become actual friends? When do you define the relationship as people who are friends rather than casual acquaintances? And a whole new level of social anxiety sets in as I submit to the realization that friendship from here on out just might be uncomfortable.

As I gave myself time to feel through the emotional rollercoaster of “I did it! Oh, wait I have to do it all over again?” Truth decided to pipe up through some dear friends of mine. Jesus knows what we need, and I am forever grateful for the time when friendship was able to organically grow through the daily encounters of brushing your teeth together and how these same people who know my flossing habits also know my heart. Here’s what I learned from them about why braving the Awkward First Dates are worth it:

We all crave being known.
You can be a part of a “close” group for a while and not feel like they truly know you. You can stay on the surface and talk about your favorite coffee shops in the area or work, or you can get REAL awkward on a first friend date and get down to the nitty gritty – breakups, fears, let-downs, honesty. That’s the stuff I like. Yes, I do want to know if you and I have similar taste in Netflix queues, but I would rather bond over the lost-and-found feeling of “Me too!” any day.

We all want to be wanted.
The reason I’ve put off building community for so long was because I wanted the invitation. I wanted someone to see ME and come to ME and be friends with ME. How selfish does that sound? It’s also not reflective of my Jesus. He went to people’s homes. He reached out to his disciples and invited them along to join in his work. He didn’t sit in the synagogue and wait for people to approach him about healing or because they wanted to see the water/wine trick. He put himself out there and sometimes people rejected him, but most times they wanted to get to know him more. Don’t let the bitterness of not being invited first take root in your heart. Get uncomfortable. Reach out. Be the invitation. It really is what Jesus would do.

We all are worth knowing.
You are worth knowing. It’s true! You have unique skills, experiences, thoughts, and opinions that other people need to hear. Who you are and who God has made you to be is a GIFT to the world. The fact that you even exist is a miracle. Why would you hide something so special away from others? You have galaxies within you bursting out ready to inspire the rest of us to dream bigger. So the next time you get a little afraid of the awkward first date, think about the stars and how you’re one of them.

If you’re going to say yes to anything this summer, I hope it’s to an awkward first date. Heck, if you want to practice, then I would love to be that person for you! Let’s punch our fears in the face and make new friends.

My friend Sarah asked me the other week what I saw up to, and I replied “Enjoying the lake and doing lots of soul-searching.” That seems apt to describe our lives sometimes right? A little bit of concrete “real life” like washing dishes, going to work, and jumping in the lake mixed with a real peak into our souls. Soul searching. There are seasons of action and seasons of contemplation. My season right now is contemplation and waiting. Although a contemplative introvert never REALLY seems to be in action 😉 There’s something about living by a lake right now that invites reflection. Life slows down a little bit. I seem to have all this extra time I didn’t before. Maybe I was it’s because I used to run unnecessary errands, or not having a dishwasher, or maybe it’s just the invitation for this season. Either way, here I am anchored at the dock, floating between seasons.

I’ve been watching a lot of episodes of “The Flash” a cheesy superhero show about a speedster hero with Jesse every night. And playing the new cooperative Harry Potter board game. and jumping in the lake. and paddle boarding. and sitting with my cup of coffee on the deck in the mornings. It’s picturesque (in a nerdy kind of way hahaha), but meanwhile my own heart and head are in turmoil. I have viewed my own journey of grief as taking action. Although it may look quiet and slow, it has taken quite a lot of strength and effort. I haven’t suppressed or ran away from it. That’s not who God has called me to be. I am a brave daughter of the King. But grief takes up all your energy and time, and when it subsides, you’re left with all of the things you were working on before trauma came on the scene. My ability to read and memorize scripture is in shreds. My own goals and aspirations took a temporary pause. Hope and rediscovery takes root again. It’s similar to when you graduate college, and you realize you need to answer the question “Who am I when I’m no longer a student?” “Where do I go next?” Seasons of contemplation often catapult our hearts into a realm of unknown territory where we must ask ourselves, “What now?”

The good news is that Jesus helps us answer these questions. We’re never left without answers (although they don’t always come as quickly as we want or expect).

Something I’ve been saying “Yes” to lately is writing a book. It’s still very much in the beginning stages. But it’s happening! I’m trying to hold on to my own expectations for it loosely, yet I can’t really hold back my own excitement at having a project to work on that requires something I love doing (Writing!). 30 people could read it. Or 300. But more importantly, I have to actually WRITE it. It could take me a year, it could take me five more years. Either way, I’ll keep you updated! I’m ready to start this book-writing journey, and yet terrified where it will lead. Which honestly, is how I feel at the beginning of most new opportunities.

Which leaves me with the question, “Where do I go next?” Well, more soul-searching, more swimming, and more quality time with people I love. Action and inaction. Holding my own expectations loosely, while fully embracing whatever this season holds. In some ways, I’m saying goodbye to fear all over again. Fear and I don’t really get along very well because I’m usually kicking it out and telling it not to come back unless it gets its act together. I usually recognize that it’s appearance signifies a shift or a big change. A little fear isn’t a bad thing if it wakes you up to the refreshing and challenging new chapter you’re beginning. Like a good shot of espresso or the yank of a rope in a game of tug-of-war.

A little fear isn’t a bad thing if it pushes me towards reverence for God and what he’s up to. Like Moses at the burning bush when he needs to remove his sandals and acknowledge he’s on holy ground. So I’m removing my Birkenstocks and stepping out onto the lake. There’s no concrete line between sacred and secular like I wished for in the past. God reveals himself in ordinary bushes and unexpected moments. Perhaps I’m still a shepherd in the dessert like Moses was until he was 80 years old. Perhaps it’s time to bring deliverance to the people and break some chains. I’m not responsible for guessing which part comes next. It’s probably better if we don’t know yet if we’re in for decades more of sheep herding or if its almost time to turn staffs into serpents and send plagues from on high (I’m speaking metaphorically here!). I trust that God’s timing and wisdom is a lot better than my own and hope for patience while I ask “What now?”