The Importance of Female Friendships



My friend Mariann and I at her home in Pennsylvania.



            Within this past year I have realized more than ever how important female friendships are to women.  I would hope that those of us who are married would consider our spouse to be our closest friend (although I know some marriages don’t work that way), yet a spouse or significant other can’t do it all.  Still, I think some women enter marriage with the idea that their new mate will meet all of their emotional needs, and let me tell ya folks, that just ain’t true!  How much healthier it is to share our lives with a variety of friends, as each relates to us in her own unique way.
            Not only can females relate to each other as we see the world in a gender-specific way, but those close relationships help us figure out who we are as women.  We share with each other similar aspects of our lives, comparing ourselves and our perspectives with each other.  While men and women are definitely equal in their worth as people, I do believe that they are distinctly different in how they view the world (of course, generalizing too much here can be limiting for either sex).
            As with any relationship, we want our friendships to be authentic, with a real sense of give and take.  Am I asking too much of my friend?  Or, do I feel like I’m constantly giving to them while they show little interest in my life?  As I said, this past year I’ve had to re-examine my relationships in terms of those questions.  What does it mean to be a true friend?  How do we negotiate the delicate balance of building emotional bonds with each other?  Much of this means that we need to be brutally honest with ourselves and with others.  If we don’t, and we’re in relationships that are too lopsided,  I believe they will collapse in the end.  So, we should ask: Does this friend bring out the best in me?  Do I feel free to be myself?  Do I feel like my friend is there for me when I need her? 
            As I said, my re-examination this past year has resulted in several changes. I “let go” of two friendships that I thought were one-sided (on my part).  It was no surprise, then, that those people did not come running to me to see why our relationship came to an end (which, of course, hurt a bit).  But I also realized that with two other friendships, I had not really been there for them and thus needed to make more of an investment.
           Yes, we hurt each other with our negotiating (whether overtly or covertly), but in the end, those relationships are strongest which are mutually supportive and tended with care.
           Can you relate to any of my experiences?  Men, are  your own friendships with each other similar or different?

For life is what you make it.  So make it good!

           

El Rodeo, Te Amo!

These little guys were fun to watch at Tanganyika Wildlife Park.

           



            Have you ever been a regular customer at a specific restaurant?  For our family, that restaurant has been El Rodeo, a wonderful Mexican place originally run by an extended family.  We’ve been going there almost weekly for about eight years, ever since our daughter could say the word “rice.”  The staff make everyone feel like family, and over the years we’ve gotten to know most of the servers and managers on a first-name basis -- to the point that we’ve been invited to their parties and visited in their homes.
            Of course, we wouldn’t be patronizing this place if they didn’t have awesome food.  Always quickly served, it’s beautifully presented and has a wonderful flavor.  My husband likes his two tamales with rice, my daughter either a beef burrito or tamale (like her dad) and me, well, I pretty much jump all over the menu because I want to try it all.  The salsa is just spicy enough and fresh-tasting, with the perfect amount of cilantro, and the chips are thin, crispy, and warm from the oven.  Are you feeling hungry yet?
            The first person who befriended us was Rodrigo, who always stopped by our table and greeted us whether he was our server or not.  Then we met the three Joses: Jose Antonio (the manager), Jose Goatee (that’s how I referred to him) and the young Jose (also a minor league baseball player who married the hostess, Katy).  My daughter and I were invited to her baby shower (we were the only gringos there), which was held in the back room of the restaurant, and it was interesting to me that they served very different food than what they serve the customers.  Francisco, the current manager, says, “You Americans like cheese!”  And thus we are served dishes with a lot more cheese than what they would eat.  Who knew?
            Jose Antonio’s daughter, Alejandra, invited us to her quinceanera (Sweet 15 Party) which turned out to be a HUGE feast/dance/fiesta in a rented fireworks building.  Again, we were the only gringos there, so we felt very honored.  Of course, we Americans under-dressed (jeans, etc.) while everyone there had their finest suits and dresses on!  It was fun to meet all of the workers’ families, and to observe the traditions that came with this event.
           When one of the servers, Cindy, had her baby, she invited us to come see him at her house, which was pretty cool.  We also befriended a man named Diego, who I saw walking very quickly in the rain on his way to work one day, so I picked him up and took him to the restaurant.  Tragically, last year  he died of a heart attack at home after leaving work with chest pain – he was only forty.  He left behind his sweet wife, Lupita, and one daughter.  We still miss him.
           As staff come and go, we enjoy getting to know each one, and continue to be treated like family.  This year, my daughter and I stopped by the place on Christmas Eve.  We knew they would be closed, but we also knew that Francisco was in the kitchen, cooking a cow’s head to be eaten at the staff party that night!  We gave him a bag of Christmas cookies, and also had some for the other servers.  He looked down at his messy kitchen clothes and said “I would hug you, but I don’t want to get you dirty!” 
           It sure has been fun to be a part of this place.

For life is what you make it.  So make it good!

           

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Earth’s crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,
the rest sit round it and pluck blackberries,
And daub their natural faces unaware.
Knowledge by suffering entereth;
And Life is perfected by Death.

            This poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning was introduced to me by our pastor last week during his sermon.  It says so much about what I’ve thought of the presence of God in the world.  It seems that so many people are asking God for miracles and signs of God’s presence, yet I think if we really look around us (inside and outside of ourselves) we can see God working everywhere.

            I recall driving by a sign outside of a store that read: “Pray for small miracles.”  In reality, I think those miracles are happening all around us, if we would only open our hearts and minds to God’s spirit.  What kind of miracles am I talking about?  The way that a wound heals itself when new skin is formed.  Of course, the birth of a baby.  The way that tears can cleanse our broken hearts, and the way that our spirits can reach out and offer a healing balm to others, as well as the way we can receive healing ourselves.  The way that the natural world works in intricate ways, operating in a delicate, sophisticated balance.  The way that God is near even if we don’t always “feel” it. The way that God works through circumstances if we would only listen for God’s voice, sometimes spoken quietly within our own consciousness and at other times standing right in front of us, uttered  through the lips of another person, or in a situation that develops right before our eyes.
           I don’t think we should so much think about ways in which God can grant our every request, but rather we should look around us to see the way that  God is already at work.  We need to make ourselves ready to be a part of that.  We need to take off our shoes, lest we ignore God’s presence and merely sit around, plucking blackberries.

For life is what you make it.  So make it good!

(For my latest article, “Finding Jesus at Camp” check out The Mennonite online at www.themennonite.com, June issue).

           

Dip the Toe or Take the Plunge?

These impatiens love the shade in the raised bed by our back door.

         This last week the neighborhood pool opened, to much delight.  I took my daughter on Wednesday, and in Kansas, the outdoor pools can be pretty chilly since we don’t have a lot of hot weather yet to heat the water up.

           When we arrived, sure enough, the water was very cold.  But I did something that I began doing two years ago. I jumped into the deep end all at once, feet first (I’m not much of a diver) and felt the shock of the sudden, icy snap. Yeeeooooww!  But, you know, once I get over the surprise to my system, I’ve saved the time I used to waste dipping my toe in a bit at a time -- and I’m ready to swim!  It’s kind of like slowly peeling a bandaid off, or ripping it off in one, swift move. Which one is better?
            I’ve decided I like taking the plunge!  And, in a way, I think that’s sort of a metaphor for how we can approach life.  Do we timidly, slowly, agonizingly dip our toes into the challenges that come before us, or do we plunge right in, full-bodied, ready to take a risk?  I have to think of times in my life when I’ve decided to jump in all at once, despite any possible shocks to the system.  Now, I’m not condoning impulsive behavior that might end up with dangerous or disastrous consequences.  Instead, I’m talking about being willing to jump in to something new and initially uncomfortable in order to reap the benefits that come with taking risks.
            I can think of one risk I took that led me to the wonderful man I married. When I started graduate school in a new university town, I was wanting to explore a different type of faith tradition, one that was more contemplative than my own.  So one morning I walked hesitantly into the back of a Catholic sanctuary and sat in the last pew where I could observe.  I remember thinking that I was crazy to expect that I could ever find a home there, but I did! What was comical was that within the next several weeks, I was up front singing with the folk choir, trying to do the sign of the cross and all of those Catholic motions and I didn’t know what I was doing!  Anyway, I met a wonderful friend there whose boyfriend her freshman year had roomed with the man I was to meet and marry.  It wasn’t until a few years later that she introduced us at her graduation party, but later I realized that it was that decision to darken those church doors that led me to meet him.  Now, granted, meeting a guy was not the focus of my desire to pursue the Catholic Church (which I did not join, but one I appreciated while I was there), but I have recognized that if I hadn’t have taken the plunge, the wonderful friends I made there and ultimately meeting my mate would not have happened!
         Are you a toe-dipper or a plunge-taker?  It’s something to consider.


For life is what you make it.  So make it good!