Happy Hour Buddies to Best Friends

On August 5, 2011August 5, 2011 By femmefuelIn August 2011 (Cultivating Friendships), FemmeFeatures by JMathis2 Comments

By JMathis

Pam and I are toying with the idea of becoming “best friends”.

Yes, you heard me right: best friends—a social construct that is beloved by five year olds and sorority girls alike.

Except that we’re inching towards our 40s, which makes the idea a bit creepy, if you ask me.

I think that’s why we’re so hesitant to take the plunge. After all, how do you go about becoming someone’s best friend after a certain age? Frankly, it’s not that easy.

Sure, in your 30s and 40s, you might have Happy Hour buddies, casual work friends, bible study friends, or even ‘mommy and me’ friends, but unfortunately, there is a huge divide between those kind of friends and the friends who will come over to your place at the drop of a hat because you suddenly realize that your marriage is over. A huge divide between those kind of friends and the friends who are willing to use their hair as your snot-rag, as you sob and dry-heave on their shoulders because your seventh round of IVF has failed.

It’s too late to make friends like that, right?

Once you hit your 30’s, life takes over and increasingly it becomes more and more challenging to develop new and lasting female friendships. You’re drained from work, you have kids to carpool, and you barely have time to connect with your spouse, much less devote any time for yourself.

I mean, at this point, if you haven’t made any permanent, snot-wiping friendships, you’re certainly not going to make them now, right? When you’re feeling this stretched for time?

Maybe it’s time to revisit that paradigm.

Pam and I, for example, started off as Happy Hour buddies, and we were really good at that for five years. Everything remained at surface-level—good ol’ slap-sticky kind of fun, gossiping about co-workers, dishing about celebrities, trying new hot spots.

Then, her mom dies on the other side of the world, leaving her dad dazed and helpless. She had to leave town for a month to be with her dad, and I agreed to take care of her dogs while she was away. No big deal. That’s what Happy Hour buddies do.

Fast forward a year later and I’m in the throes of post-partum depression. She immediately senses it and encourages me to see her doctor. No big deal. That’s what Happy Hour buddies do.

Her marriage falls apart six months afterwards, and I connect her with names of people who can help her get her life back on track as a single person. No big deal. That’s what Happy Hour buddies do.

Sometime later, my business gets whacked by the economy, and she buys me coffee every week, while providing me with invaluable financial advice to get me through that period of time. No big deal. That’s what Happy Hour buddies do.

Now zoom over to six months ago, when she realizes that she has developed a substance abuse problem. I start going to Al-Anon and Narcotics Anonymous meetings with her. No big deal. That’s what Happy Hour buddies do.

Wait a minute.

Maybe that’s not what Happy Hour buddies do (at least not most of them anyway). Happy Hour buddies wouldn’t do any of the above, because their whole existence is predicated on getting away from all of the Debbie Downers of this world.

You see, Pam and I never had the intention of being anything more than Happy Hour buddies. She had her circle of lifetime good friends, and I had mine. For quite a long time, we kept things very superficial and most of all, convenient. We didn’t burden each other with our sob stories; we didn’t wear out our welcome.

We were happy to swim in the shallow end of the pool for life.

But somewhere along the way, Pam and I crossed the line. It took 10 years for us to realize that we were more than just Happy Hour buddies, but recently, we awkwardly admitted that we were embarking on some “new type of friendship” that we weren’t really expecting from each other. We finally acknowledged that somehow, despite our insanely frenetic schedules, we always managed to be there for one another, and that we would continue to do so for the long haul.

Crazy, huh?

So, maybe you can make new best friends in your 30s and 40s. Yes, it might be easier to do if you spend all night on the phone together in high school, or lie sandwiched on top of each other in a dormitory or a sorority house.

But, maybe, just maybe, it still is possible in your 30s and 40s to find that special friend you either lost, or never had in the first place.

Perhaps if you just open up your heart wide enough to allow someone in to see your vulnerabilities and your shortcomings, you may just be surprised at who shows up on your doorstep with a shoulder for you to cry on…along with your very own pint of Ben and Jerry’s.

Of course, not everyone will want to see you through your problems, and you may very well face rejection from people who don’t really want to become invested in your life or your excess baggage.

But, wouldn’t it all be worth it if you could find a new best friend at this age? Maybe your snot-rag of a best friend is somewhere out there, just waiting for someone like you to pull out the Kleenex.

In fact, like Pam, she may be someone sitting right under your nose and you just never realized it.

Put away your pride. Put away the broken heart that has been trampled upon by friends of the past. If only for just a moment.

After all, that moment may be just enough time to let her know that you are there, and that you’re not planning on going anywhere.

High Drama

On August 4, 2011September 6, 2011 By femmefuelIn August 2011 (Cultivating Friendships), FemmeBytes by Sasha KatzLeave a comment

By AbbyA

Since we are reminiscing about old friends, I have a sad story to tell. In fact, I don’t really want to tell it at all. Because it makes me feel uncomfortable – – somewhere in between convicted and justified. I think that’s called confusion. Unless, of course, you can be both at the same time.

I was a part of a very close-knit group of girls through high school and middle school. We traveled in a pack. Ganged up on girls who dated our ex-boyfriends (or cheated with our boyfriends.) High Drama. Talked through the night until the phone fell off our ear. High Drama. Cried when we were happy and sad. High Drama. Drove each other home from school. Drove around town on Friday and Saturday nights. Solved our parents’ problems. High Drama. Lied about our age. High Drama. Burned at the beach together. Ate whole pizzas. Babysat siblings together. Ransacked older brothers’ parties together. We were a pack. A High Drama Pack.

The pack went two directions after high school. I went west to Louisiana and the rest headed to Seminole Territory. Seems fairly natural except I was the only one who split. There were plenty of meet-ups on holidays and summers. But the bottom line was, for the most part, they were all together, and I was not.

There is a lifetime between then and now. But that was the beginning of distance. There was a wedding early on and it already felt weird. I was pretty close to an outsider even though I was a bridesmaid. There was a post college European trip where one of the gang came along with my college friends. That was a severe disaster. The story escalated to High Drama – – “she” was left in Czech Republic while the three of “us” moved on to . . . some other country. There is only a grain of truth in that High Drama. She was left at the train station a few exits from the hotel . . . whatever . . . I have no good explanation for it and I apologized to her about five years ago. Anyway . . .

The distance didn’t end there. To make matters worse, I headed off to law school. Experienced personal drama. Stopped talking to just about everyone for about twelve months. When I came out of shock, I was too embarrassed to get back in touch with anyone. There are many ways to tell this story, but I had the mindset that they perceived that my silence was the equivalent of me escalating myself above our friendships. So I clammed up and handled it badly when I finally ran into one of them. High Drama.

And then came Facebook. I attempted to befriend them a few years ago, but no one really responded. I think I am a “friend” of only one of these girls. I guess you can call that Low Drama. Lately, I have been trying to be a better Facebook friend – – trying to read threads and comment on pictures. Curs’ed me. High Drama. I saw the whole slew of them on a reunion vacation together. Every last one of them. I even commented that they all looked beautiful. No response. High Drama.

This leads me to my current feeling of both conviction and justification. On the one hand, we grew apart. How many letters did I write those girls in college? I don’t think anyone ever wrote back. I moved on to what really was God’s plan for my life. Justification. In the rumble of growing up, I didn’t look back at the dust I left behind. Perhaps I should have been kinder and more thoughtful. Conviction. High Drama. I think it’s called confusion. Unless, of course, you can be both at the same time.

The One That Got Away

On August 3, 2011August 3, 2011 By femmefuelIn August 2011 (Cultivating Friendships), FemmeFeatures by JMathisLeave a comment

By JMathis

I worshiped you from the day I met you.

We were only eleven, but you managed to win me over with your peals of infectious laughter, and your ability to ignite a room with your warmth and passion.

Everyone adored you and wanted a piece of you, but I will never forget how you made a special, little place in your heart just for me.

You possess a certain magnetism and zeal for life that elevate those around you to a bigger, better and brighter place. A place that is wide, vast and bottomless with love, friendship and immense beauty.

Did you know that the school cafeteria was a magical place whenever I was with you?

While we haven’t been close since graduating high school (different schools, different states, different paths in life), I love that you still hold a special, little place in your heart just for me.

I want you to know that my birthday is just not complete until I receive a call or a text from you.

I know that seems either trivial or insufficient to some people, but for me, it lights up the rest of my year.

For at a young age, you had already given me the greatest gift a friend could ever give another: the gift of inspiration.

You inspired me to strive, you inspired me to reach, you inspired me to share, you inspired me to give freely of myself.

You inspired me to set aside negativity in favor of joy. Sheer, unadulterated joy.

Twenty-five years later, you still inspire me to achieve bigger, better and brighter. Why? Because twenty-five years later, you are still you: spreading love, laughter and joy to all who cross your path. While I may not be the one directly in your path these days, it warms my heart that your new friends are soaking in the rays of your sunshine—it’s their turn now to learn from you.

After all, it was you who taught me one of life’s greatest lessons: friendship is to be given away liberally and abundantly, irrespective of who you are, what you own, and how much time you have to invest in someone’s life.

You taught me that friendship is to be multiplied and spread widely—not something to be horded or parceled out stingily to the highest or flashiest bidder.

I know that you are not a Christ-follower, but you possess all of the qualities that all Christians should and must possess.

For that, you inspire me to be a better Christian.

To this day, you inspire me to be the friend that I hope to be to others.

You are the one that got away, but yet, you are the one who is forever closest to my heart.

Thank you for shining your light on me for that brief period of time.

It shines on through me even unto this day, as a personal reminder to keep paying it forward.

I love you, girlie. Always will.

I Samuel 18:1-3. And it came to pass, when David had made an end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. And Saul took him that day, and would let him go no more home to his father’s house. Then Jonathan and David made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul.

2 Samuel 1:25-26. How the mighty have fallen in battle! Jonathan lies slain on your heights. I grieve for you, Jonathan, my brother; you were very dear to me. Your love for me was wonderful, more wonderful than that of women.

Old…But Always Gold

On August 2, 2011August 2, 2011 By femmefuelIn August 2011 (Cultivating Friendships), FemmeBytes by Bindu Adai-Mathew2 Comments

By Bindu Adai-Mathew

Her hair was the color of the sun.
My hair was the color of night.

Her eyes were blue and bright.
Mine were dark and brown.

Her skin was milky white.
My skin was chocolate milk.

She was the tallest in our class.
I was the shortest in our school.

Her favorite color was green.
I lied and said mine was, too.

Her family was the All American.
My family was the Immigrant Indian.

We couldn’t have been more opposite physically.
But inside, where it counted, we were soul sisters.

With a shared loved of books, learning, and Jesus,
You were my childhood.

                                          Wherever you are, Becky Michelle Dunn,
                                          You were…are…and will always be…
                                           My very first best friend.

Do You Have a Friend?

On August 1, 2011September 6, 2011 By femmefuelIn August 2011 (Cultivating Friendships), FemmeFeatures by Sasha Katz2 Comments

Best Friend Moms and Best Friend Daughters

By AbbyA

Do you have a friend? One that checks up on you because she has a hunch you’re not yourself today? How about a friend that thinks of you when she is soul-searching? Maybe you have a friend that treats your family to a weekend at the beach when you don’t have a dime for a summer vacation. What about the old friend who sees your kids for the first time and accounts their good looks to you? What about the friend who knows whether there is anything hiding behind your smile? What about the friend who doesn’t call much but always remembers your birthday?

Friends. Two are better than one. Because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, one will lift up his companion. But woe to him who is alone when he falls. For he has no one to help him up. Ecclesiastes 4:9. As younger women, it is more of the thrill that keeps us close. We take on the night together with red wine in hand. We throw up our grad caps together. We shop for bridesmaid dresses, lipstick and make wedding plans over lunch. We laugh over pregnant bellies and chipper about when we conceived.

Friends. Something happens just about the time real life starts taking its course. There are so many events that make life real. Most of us are lucky enough to avoid them until several years into the twenties. Things like infertility happen. Things like adultery and death. Things like loneliness or depression. Things like sickness or searching. Things like . . .

At these times, when we go through these things, there is a face staring back at you while you . . . Tell your story. Shed your tears. You are leaning on a friend. She danced with you at eighteen when you were both covered in fairy glitter. But now she is leaving her husband. You are leaning on a friend. You think you lost touch, but she is the first one to send you flowers when your dad passes away. You are leaning on a friend. You thought her marriage was impeccable, but she is humble enough to tell you about how she learned of her husband’s infidelity. You are leaning on a friend.

Friends stick closer than a brother. Proverbs 18:24. My kids tell on each other – – sometimes for everything. When my boy whispers something under his breath, my daughter parrot squawks it out for all to hear. Friends seal it shut. My best friend has taken my worst, most regrettable mistakes and shoved them under the thick carpet of her vowed secrecy. When my brother was stabbed, my old high school friend had her husband come home from work to take care of my baby boy so I could go to the hospital. Even if we fight like girls, grab by the pony tail, ring it like a church bell . . . we grab those same shoulders, smack a kiss on a teary cheek and promise to stay for the long, marathon run of this sometimes shocking, scary, but never-alone life. Yes, friends stick closer than a brother.

The sweetness of a man’s friend gives delight by hearty counsel. Proverbs 27:9. Who are your friends? Are they reliable? Tried and True? Do they hold your butt accountable when you seem to have lost your way? Do they mirror the wisdom offered to you by God’s word? Do they sharpen you with equal amounts of conviction and grace?

A friend loves at all times. Proverbs 17a. Are you safe with your friend like you are safe in the presence of your Father? Where do you go to find this kind of friend? Friends. This is where FemmeFuel is going to journey with you during the month of August. Cultivating Friendships. How to be a Friend. How to have a Friend. What does God’s Word say about Friends? Ever been burned by a Friend? Do you have any friends? Do you need a Friend?

Life would be rather dry without Friends. Our gardens might be tidy, but certainly, nothing would be in bloom. Imagine having a dried out rose in your keepsake drawer, but having no sweet memory attached to it. Imagine cleaning up after a dinner party without recalling the good laughs from earlier. Imagine truth without the buffer of love. Or repentance without grace. Friends mean this much. They are like the warm cover over you while you rest. It is no wonder that the greatest commandment is to love one another and that the greatest love is to lay down your life for your friend. John 15:12-13. It is a great honor to have and to be a Friend.

Whole in His Holiness

On July 29, 2011July 19, 2014 By femmefuelIn Best of Bindu Adai-Mathew, FemmeBytes by Bindu Adai-Mathew, Mind Body Spirit ConnectionLeave a comment

By Bindu Adai-Mathew

Daughter. Sister. Wife. Mother. Friend. Employee. Aren’t there times when you feel like there are so many pieces of yourself that you give away throughout the day that you feel as though you have nothing for yourself, much less God? Since becoming a wife and especially after becoming a mother, between work and my family, I often feel like I am being pulled, tugged, twisted, and yanked in so many directions…and while at times I have no idea which direction I’m headed, the only thing that seems clear is that I’m further and further from accomplishing my personal dreams and goals.

I recall the person I dreamed I would be by this age. Married. With Children. That part doesn’t seem surprising. But yet even after marriage, for several years, I didn’t recognize the person that stared back at me in the mirror. The medals and trophies that line up my parents’ living room, tokens of a bygone era of accomplishment, now lay tarnished amongst my current reality—the reality that the person who was once voted “Most Likely to Succeed” by her graduating class now seems anything but successful and accomplished. Often I felt I was no better than one of the statuettes I had won in my earlier days. Like them, I was tarnished. Stashed away in the corner. Forgotten. Stuck in the past. Old. Hollow.

Somewhere, somehow, I had gone missing…in my own life.

But as JMathis reminded us yesterday…we are “missing no longer.” Despite our pasts, our wrong mistakes, how we’ve been wronged, God knows us. He knows every hair on our head. He knows our pasts, and He knows our future.

Once I realized that no matter where I was…in a good place…in a bad place…all that mattered is that I get my focus back on God. It is while basking in His light that chases the shadows of lies away, that illuminates the truth that was there all along. When I focused on that rather than my own life and my own mistakes, doors that remained shut slowly began swinging open. Regret began melting in my heart, and I could once again start living my life, believing that I was right where I needed to be. I was right where God wanted me to be. Soon my “wrong” turns weren’t so wrong.

Even recently an open door now seems to be shutting. And while I waded in self-pity for a few days, I soon straightened my shoulders and began looking around for my next open door. For I know the truth. God promises us blessings and a future. For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11.

Daughter. Sister. Wife. Mother. Friend. Employee. Child of God. All these are fragments of me, but it is the latter than makes me truly whole. It’s the latter that allows God to fill in those gaping Holes, piecing everything together, making me Whole in His Holiness.

No Longer a “Missing Person”

On July 28, 2011July 19, 2014 By femmefuelIn Best of JMathis, FemmeBytes by JMathis, Mind Body Spirit ConnectionLeave a comment

By JMathis

I have a client who is a very successful architectural engineer. When she was just a baby, she and her twin sister were brutally raped by their father, to the point where their reproductive systems were savagely torn and mutilated beyond recognition.

True story.

Satan tried to steal parts of her body, hoping to gain access to the rest of her—her mind, her spirit. He had hoped that by breaking her body, he would eradicate all hopes that she would ever have of bearing children. With that, he would then have the opportunity to destroy her well-being and crush her spirit.

God had other plans for her missing parts.

God lovingly scooped her up, nurtured her and placed her into His cocoon, where she stayed until her healing was complete. He kept her within His embrace until her missing parts were restored.

Today, she has a loving husband who adores her beyond comprehension, two beautiful, adopted children who are bright, precocious and passionate about the Lord, along with a profitable business where she is highly respected by her clients and peers.

God has plans for your missing parts, too.

Just because you have missing parts, does not mean that you should place your identity as one among the “missing”:

I was molested.

I am an alcoholic.

I am anorexic.

I am infertile.

I am fat.

I am unemployed.

I am a failure.

Isn’t it time to move out of the land of the “missing” and find your identity in the life-sustaining promises of Jesus? How long are you willing to be a missing person?

Revelation 21:5. “…Behold, I make all things new…”

2 Corinthians 5: 17. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.”

If you have read these scriptures, or if you have ever heard the song Amazing Grace, you know that you have been found, my friend, and made new.

You’re not missing parts; you’re not a missing person.

Christ died so that you would be found.

You have been found.

So, rejoice.

You are missing no more.

“…He hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; He hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised.” Luke 4:18

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind but now I see.

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