I got to attend church on Sunday. Some of you might be cocking your head and thinking, “got to?” See, I haven’t attended a church in over 14 years. Yes, you read that right. My family and I did home church because there wasn’t a church we truly felt we could attend in my home town. So when I moved to the thriving metropolis of Denver, I knew the first thing I wanted to do was find a church. A church I could come home to amongst the pews. Hug the friends I see as I walk through the doors and spend time before and after the service visiting. A place I could lift my arms in praise to a Savior who died for me. A place where I could be spiritually fed by a pastor who preached the Word of God.
So you can imagine my dilemma to be in a strange place, where I only know a handful of people and none of those handful go to this church and I’m sitting here on the edge of my pew and hoping someone sticks out their hand and introduces themselves (besides the part of the service when you turn around and smile at a perfect stranger and shake hands and say “good morning.”)
I seriously sweat this part of the friend discovery. I mean, I know, you don’t meet people unless you introduce yourself around. How else is that supposed to work? Um hello, blonde hair.
So do I stick out my hand and offer my name to a stranger who looks half-way presentable and I’m interested in meeting? Nope.
*slicking away in shame*
And what it really comes down to? I’m scared. Nervous. Worried. Yep. Worried. Worried it’ll be a waste of my putting myself out there. They (whoever “they” is—we’ll pretend it’s a cute 6’, dark haired guy; not really, but it’s fun to pretend. ;-) won’t remember me next time, find me annoying and go out of their way to avoid me.
I’m jealous. Jealous of the friendships amongst my peers or the friendships that just seem to click by two people being put together in the right place at the right time. I guess my blog is a day to lay all my flaws out there. Because really, it’s only more harmful to sit on the edge of the pew, avoid the crowd and study the edges of my toes when someone smiles my direction.
Why can’t I stick out my hand and say “great to meet you, I’m Casey and I’m brand new here.” Because that takes vulnerability. An opening up and allowing other fallible human beings into our lives, even just a little bit. And vulnerable is not something I do well or easily.
So I’m standing here, gulping back my fear, worry, jealously, putting out my hand, not to yank it back, and introduce myself to someone I don’t know. I’ll let you know how it goes…
Tweet: What freaks you about making friends? Is it the vulnerability or the fear? @C_Herringshaw http://ctt.ec/1jpNt+