After a plethora of social engagements – the sort of engagements I love where women gather and support one another, share wisdom and the things they’ve learned, offer generosity and prayers, and just generally be what God calls us to be as women – I’ve reached a rather saddening realization.
In the majority of my relationships – all but two if I want to get really honest – I’m standing in the foyer.
I’ve made it past the front door. I’m not longer outside, knocking, trying to get it. I’ve been granted entrance.
But I’ve not been invited into the living spaces.
I’m not a heads-together, call-you-in-the-middle-of-the-night, share silly intimacies, called-you-just-because, help-I-need-your-advice, knowing-glance sort of friend.
I AM a bring-your-gifts, make-a-meal, we-SHOULD- get-together, nice-to-see-you sort of friend.
I’m a come-on-into-the-foyer sort of friend.
But I’m not in the living spaces.
I feel pretty blessed to be past the front door. Many people in this world never get that far.
However, I feel as though I work really hard to be a living-spaces sort of friend. I call. I write. I share my blessings. I pray regularly for these women. I listen. I offer support. I allow myself to be transparent and I trust that when somebody says they will call that they WILL CALL. When I get an invitation, I accept and bring gifts or food or talents or whatever I have to share. I make myself available (which – as most women know – can be very hard to do!)
Am I a fool?
Or am I doing something wrong?
Am I too….something….for them?
Do I expect too much reciprocity?
Do I choose the wrong people to attempt to be friends with?
It’s something I’ve been pondering since the beginning of December. And…well…I’ve not figured it out.
Maybe I’m not supposed to figure it out.
I don’t really know.
Because, frankly, I just don’t get it.
And its kinda getting lonely being in the foyer.