As I sit in a modern coffee shop working, I am uncomfortable.
The sounds, smells, menu, and even clothing are familiar, but the place is not. There is no “Justin Special” on the secret menu, or friends that will “happen” to be there at the same time. There isn’t even a chance I’ll see a familiar face walking through the door. I have no relationship equity with a single person in this town.
My wife and I packed our bags and moved to a new city, actually a new state, about a day’s drive away from our old house. This was a move for work, “for all good things,” one can say. Moving from California to Texas does not make us unique; in fact, we seem to be more the majority than the minority around here. The people are great, they are welcoming, and they are more than happy to show us the ropes. The people are not the problem; I am.
How do you make new friends? Went through my head. I haven’t had to do that in at least a decade. This feels so daunting and overwhelming. At least in Texas the weather is always an interesting starting point. Being a tried and true introvert, even the weather conversation is enough to wear a guy out. This leads me to an interesting fork in the road, and I have a choice of what I want to do.
I can live life passively, never pursue any new relationships, not really pursue them at least. Sit in the corner in my house, watch my Dodgers games with my dog, and live happily ever after with my beautiful wife and daughter. Or, I can choose to be a little uncomfortable, fail a bit, but meet some new people. The hard part of the decision is that I find beauty in both of them. I find beauty in the pursuit of friendships, and I find beauty in the solitude. So what am I going to do?
I chose to do the best thing I new to do, I prayed about it. This may sound silly to some of you, but read and and see a glimpse of how God speaks.
The weekend after praying, Liz and I were at the farmers market, a tradition we love. As we walked to the coffee shop, Liz saw a friendly face. It is important to note that Liz is the opposite of me; she is a gravitational force of relationships. The kind woman, let’s call her Grace, is from the church we started attending. We talked about the weather (my go-to) and the schools, but then landed on their story. God has called them to move a lot, and they have seen towns and friends come and go. In God’s perfect timing, he led Grace to tell us her family’s philosophy on new places:
“We don’t know how long God will have us stay somewhere, but we do know this: We are going to work as hard as we can to make the locals miss us when we are gone. The local barista, the bank teller, the waitresses, we want them all to remember us.”
Okay, God, got it.
I made this all about me – why don’t I make it about them?
Talk soon,
Justin Layne