Happy Friday my friends!
I sit here with my new owlie mug, sipping cafe mocha creamer combined with just a touch of coffee. (The ratio of creamer:coffee is ridiculous! I seriously need an intervention.) And I'm pretty sure I committed an act of treason when brewing the coffee. I only had a little bit of Starbucks grounds left, so I mixed in some Folgers. *gasp!* I'll never do it again, I promise. The guilt alone has me in a state of severe regret.
The Mr. hung out with me this morning & we chatted up a storm. We almost got the whole pot of coffee finished before he headed off to work. I have declared us "The Coffee Breath Twins". We discussed that we need to discuss more. I told the Mr. that I miss hanging out with him. Things are so busy around here. After moving 3 months ago, we dived head-first into helping out the church where the Mr. is the new pastor, & his duties are unending it seems. We knew it would be a lot of work. And, quite frankly, at times it feels like chaos. No one can hit things head-on like the Mr. though. He gets things done, fulfilling what he set out to do. He charges forward, leaving a stamp of accomplishment behind him. I am proud of him for that.
As sometimes is the case in our home when life gets so busy: we stop, to re-prioritize, re-focus, re-shift, re-engage. This cycle of rearranging our schedule for the betterment of our family will always be. A bit of regular editing to our weekly agenda is a healthy thing.
I look forward to getting back to my once-a-week mornings with the Mr. In the past, we've gone out for brekkie together (although you will never catch the Mr. using the word "brekkie"), or gone shopping, or taken our time getting ready for the day by lingering at home, just he & I. We're also fond of parking alongside the river to change up the view while we fill each other in on the most recent happenings.
After worship practice at church on Wednesday, I opened up the piano bench. I've been playing the piano & leading worship for the last 2 months. It was the first time I've opened up that bench. Maybe it's only me, but sometimes those ole piano benches can hold some interesting things. I carefully picked through the random bits & looked, just for looking's sake. I found a tambourine. So I started shaking it wildly, on my hip or with my hands in the air. Someone saw me & made a silly comment like: "It doesn't take much." Meaning: I am entertained easily.
Which isn't true.
I am actually very particular about the things that amuse me. I admit, though, that the things which stimulate the "I am indeed delighted" part of my brain often times consist of a childish theme.
And then the same person added, "You need to get out more."
Which is true.
I really miss the regularity of the friendships I used to have. And I feel so lost & alone here. Not to make you feel sad for me. No empathy needed. It's just a rut I'm stuck in on this journey of mine. Though the Mr. is my forever companion, no matter how hard he might try, he cannot fill the need I have for a good girl-to-girl talk or a day of hanging out with a gal pal. I think it's mostly my fault. I choose not to surround myself with a gaggle of ladies. I am very particular about who I choose to let in.
But I miss adventures with Susan. And I miss weekly coffeehouse dates with my girlfriend Tia. I miss that my mom used to live just down the street, instead of the 1258 miles that separate us now. I miss Target. (I just had to add that.) I miss being with someone & just laughing at the dumbest stuff. I miss talking about things like: our menu for the week & then writing our grocery lists together. I miss being comfortable sitting with someone in silence & having that be un-awkward. I miss welcoming a spontaneous visit from a friend, & plopping our feet up on the couch, to chat while we finished folding my laundry.
Being busy does make me think about it less. So, in a way, I'm grateful for the chaos. My prayers often selfishly include requests for less miles between me & those that I love & miss.
OK, I definitely didn't mean for this to get all serious. How can coffee breath turn into such solemness?
I think it's the effects of mixing the Starbucks with the Folgers.
*slaps hand to forehead*
I KNEW that was a bad idea.
Sometimes when I write from the heart like this I get comments that make me think, "Geesh, did I really come across as having given up all hope?" Please, please don't think I'm a depressed, sad human being. Believe me, joy is my core. It just sometimes feels good to feel something, & then write it out loud.