Friday’s Fave Five

Another Friday, another chance to share five of of our favorite things from the past week along with Susanne, the gracious hostess of Friday’s Fave Five.

Here are five of my favorite things from this past week:

1. C. finishing strong in 6th grade. C.(12) had his last day of sixth grade yesterday. (And for the record, yes, the fact that I have a son who will soon be in 7th grade makes me feel a little bit old…and a whole lot like, “Wow. Where did the time go?”) If you’ll permit me to brag for just a second, I’ll tell you that he finished up with straight A’s for the year and on the High Honor Roll. He worked hard and we’re proud of him. I’m not sure if he’s glad school is over or…not so much. For weeks, he’s been telling us how he’s so ready for summer break, but I know it’ll be a transition to go from seeing friends every day to being stuck with his chore-delegating mom and highly talkative little brother for three months or so.

2. Celebrating L.’s 5th birthday with family and friends. In a recent post about our small group, I mentioned that Chad and I are both introverts, and it’s true. But we happen to be introverts with many, many family members. I have to admit, packing this house last weekend with people we love, people who love our kids, was a treat and a blessing. Read more about our celebration (including L.’s Angry Birds birthday cake) in this post.

3. The Berry Almond Chicken Salad at Wendy’s. Yes, a salad is making my list this week. It’s packed with strawberries, blueberries, almonds, and Asiago cheese — four things that I could eat in large quantities if given the chance. And it comes in at a reasonable calorie count (especially the half-size) — low enough that I treated myself to a small bowl of ice cream afterward. Win-win!

4. Give Them Grace by Elyse Fitzpatrick. One of my favorite books ever is Comforts from the Cross by Elyse Fitzpatrick. It seems I’m always reading and re-reading it. So needless to say, when I saw she had a book on raising our kids with grace and the gospel coming out, I immediately pre-ordered it. It is now on my bookshelf and I’m trying to resist it until I finish my Spring Reading Thing books. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to hold out, though. I admit, I’ve already read snippets and I think it’s going to be really, really good.

5. Friends who spontaneously and graciously offer to watch my kids. I had a friend do exactly that yesterday — she offered, on the spur of the moment, to watch L. while I attended my nephew’s middle school graduation. I didn’t even ask this friend — she just offered. It was such a blessing. Naturally, L. enjoyed playing with my friend’s son far more than he would have enjoyed the graduation ceremony, and I was able to enjoy a peaceful hour or so, just being there and taking pictures. Thank you, friend! I want to be that kind of friend, too, the gracious and giving kind…

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Check out Susanne’s blog for more Friday’s Fave Five participants.

One year in

This past Sunday, we enjoyed our small group’s annual “summer kickoff picnic.” Hamburgers and hot dogs, salads and pasta, and of course…dessert. All enjoyed with great company, good conversation, and plenty of space for the 18 kids to run around.

Though it’s an annual picnic, this was only the second such picnic our family attended. Last summer was our first, and it was actually the very first thing we did with our small group.

[Quick aside: For those of you who are wondering, "What in the world is a small group?" here's a quick explanation. In our church and others, small groups -- also called 'life groups' -- are created for the sake of "doing life together." We study God's word together, pray for each other, support each other, and essentially enjoy Christian fellowship and community together.]

The small group we belong to has been together for more than ten years. But about a year ago, two of the couples left the group to start new “life groups,” and we were honored to be asked (along with another couple) to join the group.

Well, we were mostly honored. But also a little bit nervous.

See, if you were looking for words to describe Chad and me, you might start with “introverted.” Then you’d quickly have to add on “homebodies.” And sometimes you might even want to throw in “socially awkward.”

It’s not that we don’t like people. We just aren’t always comfortable in social situations.

So joining a group of people whom we knew a little bit (mostly just to say “hello” to in the halls of church) and committing to “doing life” with them…well, we knew that for us, it would be an adventure. We’d be stepping out of our comfort zone and into something brand new.

At one point, C.(12) told me that he was surprised we had actually gone through with it and had become part of a small group. “It doesn’t really seem like your thing,” he said.

And he was probably right — it hadn’t been “our thing” before. In fact, left to our own devices, we might not have ever actively sought out a small group. But it was pretty clear by the way God orchestrated the whole thing, that when we were asked, we needed to say “yes.”

So here we are, one year later. What have we done?

Last summer, we enjoyed getting to know everyone through a bunch of fun social activities. Girls’ nights and guys’ nights out, overnight trips to a nearby lake, the summer kickoff picnic, and the infamous very cold camping trip.

In September, we began meeting every other week. We spent the first few months taking turns sharing our life stories. We talked about our spiritual journeys, our family backgrounds, our heartaches, and our heroes. More than a few tears were shed, and it was really a wonderful way for us to get to know each other — especially for the two new couples.

Then we dove into a book study for the rest of the year. We picked Crazy Love by Francis Chan. If you haven’t read this book, I highly recommend that you do. This book shook us up, made us think, ignited deep conversations, and kindled in each of us a desire to love God more and follow Him more whole-heartedly.

Here’s the thing: I could have read Crazy Love on my own, and I’m sure it would have impacted me greatly. I could have read it with Chad and had some good conversations about it. But reading it with our small group really deepened the experience. With twelve people — different personalities, different backgrounds, different perspectives — we explored the book’s principles from many different angles. It was good for me to hear perspectives that didn’t line up 100% with my own, and it was helpful to hear what parts of each chapter really stuck with other people.

Time after time, as Chad and I drove home from small group, I would say, “That was good… I really enjoyed the conversation… I’m so glad we joined this group…”

And I am. Yes, homebody, introverted, and socially awkward Katrina — so glad to be part of a community. So glad that I got to know them, study with them, pray with them.

Oh, and laugh with them. There was a lot of laughter this year. Heart-healing, stress-relieving, day-brightening laughter.

As far as we know, they’re going to let us stay in the group. At least, no one has said anything about us being voted off the island out of the group. I figure, if they didn’t kick me out after my post about the camping trip, we should be in the clear. (I also employed a secret strategy of bringing a few yummy desserts to group functions, and I think that helped.)

I guess being part of a small group might be “our thing” now. We’ve certainly seen the value and the blessing and the friendship and the enjoyment that we’ve reaped over the past year. And we’re looking forward to the next year, and the one after that, and the one after that…

*

I don’t know what your community looks like. I don’t know if you have friends to walk through life with. Maybe you go to a small church and share deep connections with many of the people there. Or maybe you are just naturally drawn to connect with others.

But if you’re anything like me — an introvert in a large church — and if you’ve wondered whether you should join a small group or a life group or an adult Sunday school class, let me encourage you to take that step. I know it’s a little scary, and yes you might be nervous and feel like you’re going to say all the wrong things. But give it a try anyway. I really think it will be worth it.

Feasting at the bagel shop

There was no roast turkey on the table. No mashed potatoes or elegant appetizers, no caviar, no elaborate desserts. Not a table linen in sight.

Instead, there were three bagels and a scone, some water, some coffee. A whole bunch of paper napkins.

A five-year-old alternately worked on a craft project, nibbled his scone, and constructed buildings out of Legos. A one-year-old lounged in his stroller next to the table, gobbling up bagel pieces, flipping through board books, tossing Cheerios to the far reaches of the surrounding booths.

And there were two friends. Two women who love sharing breakfast together, but don’t often get the chance.

And that made it a feast.

My friend and I met at Panera this morning for a long-overdue bagel-and-chat session. We met four years ago, when our two older boys were in preschool together. While the boys formed a friendship consisting of Imaginext and bicycles, we built our own friendship on the foundations of (among other things) shared faith, a love of books, a belief that one can never have too many journals, and a thorough enjoyment of Panera.

New obligations, a new baby, and the increasing complexity that life automatically throws at everyone mean that we don’t meet for breakfast as often as we used to. But when we do, I’m reminded why I love it so much.

Though L. only allowed us 45 minutes of chatting (a vast improvement over his usual 10-minute restaurant limit — in part, I’m sure, because there was an interesting 5-year-old to observe), we feasted. It was a delicious buffet of encouragement, heart-sharing, commisserating, and understanding. We talked about our kids and how parenting is changing as they grow older. We discussed emotions, baby sign language, personal struggles, cholesterol, after-school activities, housekeeping, Bible study. Our conversation touched on everything from candles to crying to the weather.

Life gets busy. And it’s easy — at least it is for me — to put off getting together with friends for far too long. I get absorbed in the day-to-day: household tasks, paying bills, baby and child care, sneaking in naps. And I forget how much my soul is refreshed by a few minutes with a good friend. Some conversation over a bagel and coffee fills me up in more ways than one. Yes, I enjoy the yummy carb treat, but my heart feasts as well, on the sustenance that comes from true friendship.

I hope you have such a friend, and I hope the two of you get together for a feast very soon.

Flood Friends

As I flipped through the local TV channels today, there was one consistent theme. Across the bottom of the screen for all four-or-so channels ran those helpful weather warnings. Today it’s Flash Flood Warning, with a handy map of all the local counties blinking green, yellow, green, yellow.

I can’t hear the words “flash flood” without remembering something that happened 12 years ago.

It was about 1 a.m. and I groggily realized that the phone was ringing. Back in those days — younger days, thinner days, newlywed days, and most significantly, days before kids — I actually slept well. Unlike now, when the slightest noise catapults me from asleep to awake, I then slumbered peacefully. And all night long, in fact. Amazing.

Anyway, the phone was ringing. Now I’m one of those types who tends to not answer the phone if I’m in the middle of something. If I have a baby on one hip and am stirring the tomato sauce with my free hand and the phone rings…they’ll have to wait. If I’m reading blogs paying the bills and the phone rings…they’ll have to wait. My philosophy is: they can leave a message. If it’s urgent, I’ll hear the message and jump into action. If not, well, we can chat later.

But when the phone rings at 1 a.m., it’s either a very wrong number or an emergency. So my plan was to answer the phone. But I must have slept through the first four rings because by the time I swung my legs off the side of the bed, I heard the answering machine pick up. At that time, we lived in a small 2-bedroom apartment, and although the answering machine was in the other bedroom (read: room for the computer and the futon), I could hear it clearly, since it was really just a couple feet away. And here’s what I heard (after my cheery “leave-a-message” message):

“Katrina! I need you! Katrina? Katrina!!”

I knew the voice. It was my friend, Carrie (names have been changed to protect the innocent people who may or may not like their names broadcast on my blog, just to be safe). And she sounded desperate. I stumbled for the phone and picked up.

Carrie and her husband, John, lived in an apartment much like ours — a small apartment building, housing four or six individual units. Like us, they lived in a semi-basement unit which meant that the front of our apartments were underground, while the backs somehow had doors to the outside. The difference was, Carrie and John’s apartment was in a valley, while ours was not.

That night, they’d gone to bed as usual. It was raining, which was nothing new where we lived. But they awoke sometime after midnight to find that their bedroom had become a swimming pool. Water was up to the mattress, furniture was floating around, and it just kept rising. The rain hadn’t stopped and flash floods were in full effect.

I didn’t need to hear any more. “Come over now.”

And as I prayed for them, I set about rummaging for towels and dry clothes. I converted the futon into a bed and put some sheets on it. I woke Chad to let him know that they’d be coming, and then waited while they made the 15-minute drive to our apartment. Carrie and John arrived, soaked and scared, exhausted but unable to relax. Understandably. We stayed up and talked for a while about what they would do next, what we could do for them. And then we all climbed under our respective covers, though no one got much sleep that night.

In the end, the water had gone up about 5 feet in their apartment. By the time they got in the next morning, the water had gone down, but there was a line of grime along every wall. Furniture was upended and ruined. They had to start over. Chad and I did what we could to help. Insurance helped. There was some FEMA money distributed to those affected by the flood. And they got through it.

If there was more we could have done, we would have. Because they were our friends, and we know they would have done the same for us.

That got me thinking, today. Now, at this stage in my life, who are my “flood friends”? Who could I call at 1 a.m. to say “I need you!”?

In a physical emergency (flood, fire, etc.), I know there are many I could call, many who wouldn’t mind being awakened to take us in and dry us off. But what about emotional emergencies? Who could I call if feelings, emotional pain, trials, or relational tragedies were threatening to drown me? If the things I hold on to were suddenly (or even slightly) upended?

I’m so thankful to be able to say that I have a few precious, treasured friends like that. Friends who would take that call in the middle of the night. Friends who would pray with me, sit with me, cry with me. I’m grateful that God has placed those dear friends in my life.

I hope you have some “flood friends,” too. Maybe we should let some people know that we’d gladly be flood friends for them — that they can call on us anytime and we’ll be there, with a dry towel or a hand to hold.