Not two weeks ago, I was lamenting my lack of People. I caught myself thinking more than once, "What have we done to ourselves? What were we thinking, moving to a new community and then adopting internationally? If there ever was a time to have your people, now is it, and I don't have them."
In Kansas City I didn't have a ton of friends, but I did have a network and that network knew one another and I had friends close enough that I could call and say, "Would you have a casserole shower for me?" and it would be done. The person I would have called might have stressed over doing it, but she would have done it and found a way to make it look like it wasn't my idea.
In my old church, the women would bring food to a pregnant woman once a week for the six weeks leading up to her delivery. And clean her house while she was at the hospital. And then bring three meals for her family once all her helpers cleared out.
I never fully appreciated that.
Actually, I'm not sure they do that full scale anymore, but Charming was born in the sweet spot when it was going on and it was awesome. Even if it did get awkward with the whole home birth/cleaning/thinking I should maybe help fiasco.
And I'm sure they wouldn't do it for an adoption of an older child, anyway, but the heart was there and I could have called someone and said, "Would you please come over and help me take care of the dust bunnies invading my home?" and someone would have come.
And this month I complained to God, saying, "I don't have People!" I have friends. I don't have a ton of them and they don't really know each other, but I'm building relationships. The unfortunate thing was, even if I called someone and said, "Would you have a casserole shower for me?" whoever she would be wouldn't know the seven other people I know and it would just be awkward for her to try to round up enough people that would be willing and able to cook and help me fill my freezer. All my people have people, but they aren't my people yet. My People are all related to me and there's only so much you can ask from them (would you take care of my kids while I go to Ethiopia?) before you feel like you've used them to their max.
But since then, I've been humbled. People have swooped in and carted Charming away so I can pack. And people have swooped in and offered to have food in my freezer when I return. And people have swooped in with their swiffers and mopped my floors. And people have swooped in and ignored their full schedules and insisted on a dinner out. And I can't help but feel like maybe I have friends after all.
I'm a little afraid that after all this swooping, they will resent me, but today I am so thankful for my new network that I'll leave the worrying about taking advantage to another day.
In Kansas City I didn't have a ton of friends, but I did have a network and that network knew one another and I had friends close enough that I could call and say, "Would you have a casserole shower for me?" and it would be done. The person I would have called might have stressed over doing it, but she would have done it and found a way to make it look like it wasn't my idea.
In my old church, the women would bring food to a pregnant woman once a week for the six weeks leading up to her delivery. And clean her house while she was at the hospital. And then bring three meals for her family once all her helpers cleared out.
I never fully appreciated that.
Actually, I'm not sure they do that full scale anymore, but Charming was born in the sweet spot when it was going on and it was awesome. Even if it did get awkward with the whole home birth/cleaning/thinking I should maybe help fiasco.
And I'm sure they wouldn't do it for an adoption of an older child, anyway, but the heart was there and I could have called someone and said, "Would you please come over and help me take care of the dust bunnies invading my home?" and someone would have come.
And this month I complained to God, saying, "I don't have People!" I have friends. I don't have a ton of them and they don't really know each other, but I'm building relationships. The unfortunate thing was, even if I called someone and said, "Would you have a casserole shower for me?" whoever she would be wouldn't know the seven other people I know and it would just be awkward for her to try to round up enough people that would be willing and able to cook and help me fill my freezer. All my people have people, but they aren't my people yet. My People are all related to me and there's only so much you can ask from them (would you take care of my kids while I go to Ethiopia?) before you feel like you've used them to their max.
But since then, I've been humbled. People have swooped in and carted Charming away so I can pack. And people have swooped in and offered to have food in my freezer when I return. And people have swooped in with their swiffers and mopped my floors. And people have swooped in and ignored their full schedules and insisted on a dinner out. And I can't help but feel like maybe I have friends after all.
I'm a little afraid that after all this swooping, they will resent me, but today I am so thankful for my new network that I'll leave the worrying about taking advantage to another day.
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