It had been over two years since we'd last seen each other.
We grew up together. We met back in first grade at a co-op, both shy and sharing secrets along with snacks. We trekked through nature walks and science projects and somehow survived gym. There's been moves and relocating for both our families. Graduations. Ministry projects. Growing and changing and sanctification. We'd send letters across the miles and still kept up our friendship. Lately, it's been harder. Jobs, classes, world-traveling...the letters got more scarce, but we always said, "We'll have to get together soon. Someday soon."
It was always meant with sincere intentions. To spend time sharing hearts across the table instead of across a page or a text. What's a couple hour drive? Doable in a weekend, certainly.
Yet someday never comes unless you put a date to it.
While I was away on another world-traveling adventure last month, I'd get emails from her. "I keep thinking we need to get together when you get back," she'd say. Of course I agreed. I was always saying I'd come out to her end of town every time summer came around, but things always came up once it did. I determined that this time I'd make it happen- maybe I should try this fall and not wait for summer. Stop saying someday.
I sent her a text a few weeks later to let her know I got back safely. "I'd love to get together- any ideas of what would work for you?" I ask. I imagine going back and forth with different dates and times, trying to find an option that would work best for both of us- and I dreaded it.
Sometimes the scheduling wrings us so dry that we can't even enjoy the company. It seems so impersonal, so unfeeling. Shuffling around things trying to fit someone in around the other million things you need to do.
Something is wrong when we start to schedule people in like we do doctors' appointments. When we let our crazy thrust of productivity dictate the amount of time we spend pouring into others without a deadline.
But her response surprised me.
"This Monday at 10:30- we can meet in the middle."
Just like that. She made it a priority. There was no hemming and hawing, no trying to pick out the perfect date or location. We didn't have any Pinterest plans or fancy outfits. We even didn't have a perfect time schedule- we both had to leave by 1 for previously scheduled engagements we had. I drove my mud-covered car with less than a half tank of gas and a lip and chin still hot with hives from an allergic reaction that morning.
We both showed up- imperfections and all.
We spent the two hours we had catching up on life- what we've been doing, what God's been teaching us. We hashed out hope and faith and the power of the Holy Spirit. We came to the unanimous consensus that no matter what any author says, it will always be complicated dealing with guy friends. We shared quotes and Scriptures and laughed with excitement when we realized we'd both seen the same YouTube video. We encouraged each other and we both knew we weren't alone on this journey.
When we step back from our schedules, we realize we're not in seclusion.
The time went by quickly, and with empty bowls on the table we realized it was time to go. As we got up to leave, we gave each other a hug and I whispered in her ear-
Thank you.
Thank you for being intentional. For surprising me with lunch. For remembering to take a picture. For listening and for sharing and for being open and beautiful.
Thank you for taking the time for me.
I walked away feeling so special and cared for, but more than that, I walked away so challenged to be intentional.
I'm a dreamer and a visionary. I think of big fancy plans and want to throw the perfect outing and get-together.
Yet sometimes that hinders me from just grabbing an average cup of coffee for two hours with a not-so-average girl spur-of-the-moment on a Thursday afternoon.
I hate that. I hate that fear of imperfection keeps me from reaching beyond the seclusion of my schedule. I hate that I put things off until it'll be perfect; that I put it off until I think I can craft an atmosphere that will bless people the most...when really all we want is just to be heard and encouraged- biscotti, background music, or not.
I have another friend I haven't seen in over two years. Now that I've moved, she practically lives down the street from me. We keep saying we'll get together. There really are no excuses other than the elusive someday.
So tonight I map out the middle for both of us, send her an email and give two dates. This week. Not something five months out in advance. I want her to know that I make time for her now, that she's important.
That's she's far worth the sacrifice of my measly schedule.
Perfection ruins intentionality.
I refuse to ruin opportunities anymore.
