Liz Schauer

April is a month I knew would be difficult. In the midst of change and transition, the hours seem to flutter away just barely out of reach. This morning I made coffee and sat on my couch for the first time in a week. I didn’t have to run out the door or check my calendar. My emails could wait and nobody was calling. I stared out the glass doors at the lake and the overcast sky, looked at my friend who so graciously came over, and said, “I need a minute.” Without a second thought, she smiled, said, “Great,” and joined me in mindlessly staring out the windows.

I’m beginning to realize that it all comes down to moments like that. My friends are my life line, they are my strength when I can’t seem to piece it together, they are the ones who know when to ask questions and when to just simply sit with me. They know my ins and outs, my doubts and fears. They journey with me through sickness and health, which seems to be mostly sickness, and they hold my hand each step of the way. They know when I’m swinging on a pendulum between pride and self-doubt, and they know just what to say to bring me back to the center. They know when I need some “retail therapy” to make it through the week, and when I need a cup of tea and a movie night. They stop by for quick dinners, they call me during lunch breaks. They are the ones who don’t need all the details, but know them anyways. They are the ones who can look me in the eyes and know if I’m not “okay” even when I insist that I am. They are the ones who pray for me more than I will ever know, and the ones who declare truth when I don’t believe it.

I am grateful that I have people to come back to.  When my hard drive crashes or I can’t meet a deadline, when I find myself in need of a clone or when I have an anxiety attack, I know that I have a band of women who will always listen, always sit, always comfort. After years and years of feeling alone and unknown, my heart is overwhelmed by the fact that there are people who love me enough to be there in an instant. Through tough conversations, through heartbreaks, through failure and confession, through misunderstandings and miscommunications, they have been there. We laugh when we are angry and cry when we are happy, but we never touch each other when we are frustrated.

Here’s to the minutes that turned into hours, the late night conversations that turned into early morning coffee dates, and the friends that turned into family. Never before has a chaotic season of my life felt so blessed and so sacred.