Learning to Walk

The other night I sat with two friends who have known me for years. Once since elementary school and the other since high school (though we also spent a week at summer camp together when we were young pups). I'd say for the three of us, we've become better friends since high school. We've had our adventures world traveling and summer camp living. We've been through much together whether together or apart.

We chatted about our adventures of late, summer jobs, the good and the bad, our faiths, our hearts, our families, our homes, our surroundings, and so much more.

It was amazing to sit with two girls who have known me for so long. We've walked much of life together, though nowadays we sometimes go months between hangouts. But there is something incredible about the fact that we can still have so much to talk about.

As we were talking about our faiths, we reflected much just on how God is still so fresh - and how we're still just barely learning how to walk. We all grew up in Jesus loving homes and yet sometimes (aka always) it's just like we've barely cracked the surface of who God is and what He's calling us to do with our days.

It was a fun night to share life together. It was totally spur of the moment (they were going to a concert that got cancelled) and was far too short and yet just right!

As we were saying goodbye, one shared that is seems as though I have a really great and solid group of people around me here in Vancouver. I answered in the affirmative:

"I do. For the first time in my life I feel as though I have friends who love me for me and not out of a sense of obligation"

My friend blessed my heart so much as she shared that she has never liked me out of obligation or because she felt sorry for me.

. . .

Sometimes I really wish I could go back to myself years ago and just do a combination hug and slap in the face! I was so unsure about myself and I wish I could go back and have confidence. I wish I had given people more credit. I honestly didn't believe people cared for me, and if they did, I figured they were probably lying (if not intentionally, simply to themselves).

Recently I was at my parents place and I read an old journal. I'll be sharing a bit of what happened then soon. I'm not sure when because it feels a bit like a flesh wound. As in I'm bleeding and broken and yet also completely fine.

Vulnerability mixed with boldness. Story of my life.