When Dear Friends Call
I’ve had quite a few unexpected phone calls and conversations these last few weeks, both with friends with whom I talk regularly and with friends I haven’t spoken to in years.
I was wonderfully surprised to hear from the friend I hadn’t spoken to in years, and I felt terrible that I hadn’t called sooner. Before I could say so, she apologized for not calling sooner, saying that sometimes she doesn’t call because she feels like it’s been so long since she’s called, that now it would be weird.
“I just need to get over myself, I think,” she said, reading my mind.
I felt the same, because I do the exact same thing. I assume that since someone hasn’t reached out to me, they must not want to talk to me. They must be busy or maybe I hurt their feelings by not calling as often, and now they’re upset with me. What if they’ve forgotten who I am and it’s an awkward back and forth like, “Remember me from high school? We had geometry together? No? Um, okay, sorry to bother you.”
Another friend recently left me a voicemail that started with, “You’re probably too busy...sorry to bother you.” It broke my heart to hear a friend think that of me, that I was too busy for her or that a simple phone call out of the blue would somehow bother me. But how often do I assume the same of everyone else in my life? I’ve realized there’s a difference between being considerate and being so self-centered that I assume every interaction I have with others is only a benefit to me, and thus would be a burden if I didn’t check in with the person first. I worry so much about intruding or bothering others, that I feign connection, isolating myself and others for no good reason.
Even Tucker had to tell me multiple times that I could come over to his place whenever I wanted; and yet, I still had to stop myself from texting him a few times to make sure it’s okay that I stop by. The last time, when it finally stuck, he said lovingly but firmly, “Kayley, you don’t have to ask to come see me. You are always welcome here.”
Like my friend said, I just need to get over myself.
As we’re in full swing again and everything seems mostly open and back to normal, at least where I live, this idea of bothering others by reaching out seems so stupid when I think about it. Why on earth would I intentionally isolate myself and others, especially now, after over a year of unnecessary, forced isolation? And all under the guise of potentially “bothering” someone that I love with my company?
A simple grace I’ve seen in my life recently is how often, when I reach my hand out to others, someone grabs it immediately. I realized it on a drive home one evening. I was thinking about my new home church and, like the Holy Spirit had nudged my mind, I realized that every single time I’ve reached my hand out to the people there, it’s been held almost instantly. It’s always paired with a genuine smile, the smile of Christ, as I’ve been welcomed again and again into His church, into community. I’ve never been snubbed, or rejected. I’ve never been made to feel like I bothered anyone in my reach. My hand is always held and I’m gently pulled deeper into the body.
True community doesn’t happen overnight and I still have to reach my hand out, but knowing how often it’s been immediately taken gives me courage to keep reaching out and builds in me a desire to bring others into the fold with me. After all, I have two hands, one for reaching out myself, and another for pulling others along with me.
Talking with these dear friends reminded me how desperately we need one another, so I’ll be reaching out more often and grasping any hands I find reaching out for me, as we’re all reaching out for Christ. It’s a simple truth, but one so easily forgotten in a world that values individuality and autonomy above all else, a world that seems to have forgotten our inherent design for community living.
I think this goes without saying at this point, but I’m gonna say it anyway: to anyone reading, please never feel like you are bothering me with an out-of-the-blue phone call or text or dm or email, no matter how close or distant you think we are. If you think of me and you want to reach out, please do! Odds are, I’ve been thinking of you, too, and in the great wonder of God’s grace, we can reach out and hold one another’s hands without fear or hesitation.
You don’t have to ask to call or come see me. You are always welcome here.
