It is 10th grade. I am sitting in the architecture classroom beside the cafeteria of my high school, thoughtfully ruling out straight lines on graphing paper while talking to my friend Bruce. As we chat, we decide that we would both make great hermits when we grow up. As we talk a vision arises of little cabins in the woods, far from civilization. Just us and nature. Maybe a cat or dog, but no humans, for sure! It sounds like heaven to both of us.
I still have that same propensity to hibernate.
A happy day for me is one in which my husband goes into the office, all the kids are at school, and I have a quiet house all to myself. My idea of a good time is going to a monastery for a silent retreat with the quiet only interrupted by the rhythmic chanting of monks at pre-prescribed hours. I am an introvert who needs alone time to replenish my energy. I am a highly sensitive person who is easily overstimulated.
So yes, hermit life is still as attractive to me today, as it was 28 years ago.
And yet, as much as I love to be alone, that much I love people! Not only do I know in my mind that I am called as a Christian to love and be with people, but I actually find great joy in my heart in living that truth out. There is something indescribably sweet I feel in my soul after a long, honest, vulnerable conversation with a friend or stranger. There is something invigorating that happens in my body when somehow my presence, words, and/or actions do even a tiny bit to make someone else’s day a little better.
I know that I need people. I know that I love people.
And so, if there is one overarching goal for 2024 it is this:
Be INTENTIONAL with those I love and be OPEN to the people God brings me.
As I have reflected upon the past years, I have noticed that I have a propensity to lean more fully into one of these, sometimes at the expense of the other. There have been seasons where I have been very intentional with a small group of people. But in many of those cases, the sheer weight of focus poured into a few, left little for others who were in my orbit. When I found myself outside of those key relationships, and someone came near, possibly with a need for connection, I just did not have the energy to give more.
On the flipside, there have been other seasons where I was more “grow where you are planted.” My relational energy was used with little intention. The people I tended to invest in and spend my relational capital on were those who were near—those who I interacted with not because I had chosen them, but because they were there. They were there at church on a Sunday, or a PTO meeting at school, or at the track during practice. And those often turned into beautiful conversations, and deepened relationships. But then I would also realize that I hadn’t even spoken to some of my best friends in 6 months!
This year I want to do better with both. And I don’t want to do one at the expense of the other.
I WANT TO BE INTENTIONAL WITH THOSE I LOVE
At 43 years old, I have lived about a quarter of my life in 4 different states: Massachusetts, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, and now Georgia. It still blows my mind that this summer will mark 9 years of living in the south! When people ask me how I like living here, I often answer with, “It’s a mixed bag.” I’m not a huge fan of political or religious climate and I REALLY hate the hot summers. But I absolutely adore my house AND I love the people I have found here.
I have found amazing friends here in Georgia. As I often say, I am a collector of people, and over time, God has brought so many incredible individuals into my path. I have the friend who will always make me laugh; the friend who really gets my personality and my sensitivity; the friend who is the most incredible listener; the friend whose kids struggle in many of the same ways as mine do; the friend who gives the best, most practical advice…. You get the picture. Each one brings something unique and beautiful into my life.
Last year, I was not so hot about being intentional with all of them. As much as they meant to me, in my thirst for peace, I often chose a book or the appeal of an unplanned morning to a date on a calendar. And after a year, I have realized how much I missed many of those women. I realized how much sharpening I missed because of the lack of time spent with them. I realized there was a degree of loneliness I was experiencing, not for human connection in general, but for their presence in particular.
I don’t have a perfect plan for how I am going to avoid this kind of slide consistently for the next twelve months, but I do have a starting point. And the starting point is this: I made a list. I know, guys, shocking! Allie made a list?! Stay with me though. This wasn’t just any list. This was a list of my people—those people that my heart really longed for; those people that I see, and my mouth just blurts out without any compulsion from my brain: “I MISSED you!” That was my litmus test; my key indicator of who needed to be on that list.
Eight people made the list. As I wrote down each of their names, a smile came to my face. It was a smile that recalled good times, sweet tears, moments of feeling seen and known. Yes, these were my people. So, what did I do? I sent 8 text messages. I told them about this hope for the new year. And then I asked when they were free. I told you, not a plan, just a start! But it’s a beginning. And that list is now in a prominent place to remind me to be intentional.
I WANT TO BE OPEN TO THOSE GOD BRINGS ME
Six months after moving to Georgia, I remember sitting on silent retreat, asking God what He wanted me to do with this next chapter of my life, the first chapter in which I did not have a paid ministry job. I expected it MUST be something big. He spoke: “Be available.” As one deeply steeped in the “do great things for God” waters of ministry, I was less than blown away. And yet, in the years and seasons that have followed, while specific movements and emphases have changed, this one call has remained consistent and strong. I have been quite slow to learn that very rarely do the things that truly change my life for the better happen because of a well-thought-out plan executed to perfection. Again and again, God shows me what He will do for me, through me, and in me when I just slow down and remain open.
Being open requires my mind to shift. It requires me to be willing to put my own plans on the backburner and to be attentive to those around me. Most of the time, being open is a split-second decision:
Do I read another chapter in my book or do I say hello to the mom sitting alone on the sideline 10 feet from me?
Do I offer to help when someone seems to be struggling or do I rush to the door to get out of the cold?
Do I comment on the t-shirt whose statement I like, or do I keep my mouth shut?
There are definitely times when I really NEED what that book or that quiet or that schedule have to offer me; but being open means stopping to at least ask the question.
I want to remain open because I am always amazed where that openness can lead. So many of the divine encounters I have had began in simple ways. I chose to comment on the conference bus driver’s beautiful hair, and ten minutes later we are both almost in tears talking about the honor it was to take care of our dying parents. I chose to ask the dad on the soccer sideline who his kid was, and ten minutes later we are talking about the challenges of interracial adoption and the importance of diversity in our churches. I cannot tell you just how often these things seem to happen. But they only happen when I come openly and am willing to risk a bit of vulnerability.
I am quite cognizant of that fact that sometimes the season dictates which one of these commitments is going to be easier and which one I am going to need to fight for more. For instance, when my calendar starts getting wacky in March and April, I know that the majority of my time will be spent in places less of my choosing. Time with close friends will be difficult to schedule and commit to, both for them and for me. I also know that in January, most scheduled activities are on pause. So, I need to think through how I can put myself in spaces where I can be available for the unexpected? The question necessarily becomes:
How do I still commit to both and maintain a balance in all the seasons?
The first thing I know I need to do is respect and expect the ebbs and flows. As I just mentioned, this month has been heavy on the intentional, because I know what is coming next. Yet at the same time, I am planning a girls weekend smack in the middle of crazy season to make sure I can at least get some intentional time with those 8 ladies. On the flipside, I am still placing myself in spaces like the gym and PTO meetings this month and asking God to move and allow me to be available while I await the regularity of the season of schedule.
The next thing I need to do is rethink intentionality. Frankly, for me the seasons of easy intentionality are short. Next month soccer and riding and volunteering and all that other goodness begins again in full force, and it will be harder to get real facetime with those I love. So, I must remember that as much as I prefer to be face-to-face with people, second best is so much better than nothing at all. In those seasons, intentionality may look like remembering things my friends have coming up and sending a little text to check in on them. It may look like asking how I can pray and then following up on their requests. These are the things I can do on the soccer sidelines while I am also remaining open.
The third thing I need to do is keep space in all seasons. It has taken me years to learn and accept that my threshold for just about everything is lower than it is for most. I need twice as much downtime as your average bear. If I am going to do either of these things well (be intentional and be open) I simply must be fueling up often through times of rest, retreat and quiet. If I fill my calendar too full, I won’t be any good to or for anyone. So, for the sake of these people I love, I need to continue to grow in that ability to say that beautiful and difficult word: “no.”
And finally, I need to show myself abundant amounts of grace as I seek to live this out. I cannot and will not do this perfectly… ever! The good news is I am loved by a God who delights in me, who is proud of all my efforts and loves, affirms, and accepts me without regard to my performance. And so, if He’s ok with all the stumbling, I guess I can be as well.