This past weekend I got to celebrate my friend Lina's birthday at a sleepover with a group of wonderful girls. Anyone who knows me knows that I love finding the spiritual lessons the Lord weaves into my days, so naturally, I walked away with some lessons and reminders in my heart.
There were seventeen of us girls. Not everyone spent the night, but still, we had quite a group. I knew all but one of the girls from Lina's party last year or from my own best friends or from my family's old church. And I loved meeting my new friend Brooke this time. :)
My first spiritual lesson came early in the evening. Shortly after arriving at the party, I found myself sitting down with a girl named Abigail. We began talking, talking about life and talking about our plans for the new year, and in the midst of our conversation, I came to realize that she knew people from my current church family. I discovered she knew of three of my friends I've grown up with: Victoria and Zac and Harrison. In fact, many of the girls there knew through some connection others in my church.
Remember that famous ride at Walt Disney World? "It's A Small World." Well, I realized it's true: it IS a small world. It's so easy sometimes to feel like this world is so big. It can be overwhelming. So many people, so many places so far away. So out of reach. How can one person in this whole big world possibly make any difference or leave here a mark of change for the better in one lifetime? But really, in perspective, it's not such a big world after all. We live on a little sphere created by God and kept in ordered motion in His hands. We have little lives- one in so many people here on this little sphere- yet God cares about the every last details of our personal lives and every moment of our days. He cares about what happens here on this little globe. It's much smaller than we realize and certainly not too big for one person to make a difference. The world is not so big and the lost not so out of reach. After all, one Man on a cross changed the whole world. And that same power lives within each of us believers to make a difference for the Lord with our time here.
Later in the evening, I was saying goodbye to Hannah, a girl I hadn't seen in at least eleven years. And she told me something unexpected as we hugged: "I love your posts. They're always so inspirational and you can tell you really love Jesus."
I'm Facebook friends and Instagram followers with Hannah but as I often do with others too, I hadn't realized that she took the time to read and appreciate my posts, the thoughts of my heart that I share. And as a writer, that can be discouraging. So many times over and over again, I've considering stopping writing- stopping blogging and sharing- but every time, people like Hannah give me a reason to continue.
Sometimes we don't always see the fruit of our labor. We might not always see the evidence yet of God answering our prayers and working on a heart. We might not always see the seeds of truth that we plant sprout and blossom. I might not always see the way that my writing speaks to someone and touches a heart. But if we're using our God-given gifts in the ways that He has called us to, then sometimes we simply have to trust Him to use our efforts. We do our part and He does His. If we can touch and make a difference in one life and bring the Lord glory, that should be enough. Hannah's words encouraged me and reminded me that just because we don't always see the harvest of our labor doesn't mean our efforts are in vain.
I had changed into my pajamas that night and I remember hesitating, questioning if I should take my hair down and pull it back in a more comfortable plain ponytail. With my curly hair, a ponytail looks more like the bob of a bunny rabbit's tail. My hair's prettier when it's up, I thought to myself, so maybe I should leave it up until I go to sleep. I ended up deciding against it and choosing comfort instead. Because after all, I didn't need to impress any of the girls I reminded myself. I finished and reappeared downstairs, taking a seat beside a girl named Katie. "Your hair is so pretty," she told me. She complimented how thick it was and its natural curliness.
In this life, there's so much competitiveness. In so many aspects. Everything is focused on comparison. Put your best foot forward. Look your best. Be the best. Be the winner. Achieve the most success. Prove yourself. Impress. We compete in business, in schooling, in the workplace. And it can be very superficial and shallow.
But life really isn't a competition. Life is about working side-by-side with others and rejoicing in each other's victories. It's about building each other up. It isn't about being the best and going the farthest. It's simply about exuding God's love to our lost and broken world, drawing hearts to Him, and bringing Him glory in all that we say and do. That's what really makes us a winner. Despite our competitive and comparing world, there are still people who understand that and who love you just as you are, just where you are. The Lord doesn't love us any more or any less because of how much money we make or what college degrees we hold or how active our social life is. Or how successful in the eyes of the world our future ambitions look. The people who are really worth having in our lives, we don't have to prove anything to or impress at all or be in the top ten to be loved and appreciated by. They see beauty in us just for who we naturally are as the unique masterpieces of God's hands. And we should do the same.
The truth is, I received many sweet words in those twenty-two hours, and words of affirmation of all kinds hold special importance to me. I was told things that I had never expected to hear there. "You're so cute" I heard a few times just as I was simply being myself. "You have such pretty nails." I was told my smile was stunning. "It's like when you smile, it lights up your whole face," Katie told me. "I mean, your eyes are pretty and you look pretty just there but when you smile, it's like it just lights up your eyes. And you smile a lot."
Later at night, about three-something in the morning actually, I had gone upstairs and was taking my makeup off in the bathroom. And I remember as I looked in the mirror, those words of the girls flooded back to me. Compliments that I hadn't heard in a while since I had needed to hear them again most. I looked at my curly little ponytail looking golden in the white light of the bathroom. Those loose curls that I had so many times before bemoaned for being so "messy" and not being either tighter ringlets or straighter. Thick hair that I've considered a torture on so many occasions. Never again. I looked at my lips. Lips that often curved up into a smile. Did my smile really hold that much radiance to light up my face? And my eyes. I couldn't remember anyone besides my mom telling me before that I had pretty eyes.
It's said that you are your worst critic and how true that is! How importance it is, ladies, to look at ourselves through the eyes of another rather than through the critical eyes of ourselves trained by society to see our imperfections and flaws. And more importantly, to see ourselves through the eyes of the One Who made us and Who loves us more than we'll ever fully understand. The world tries so hard to mold and influence our ideas of beauty. Through media, through publications, through the fashion and makeup industry. But the truth is, the greatest beauty isn't from our outward appearance. When we're the most beautiful isn't when we're wearing a designer dress and name brand high heels and clutch purse, our hair styled elegantly, our makeup to perfection, and strings of diamonds around our neck. We're the most beautiful when we're being ourselves. When we're being natural and we aren't trying to impress anyone. When we love ourselves and embrace being who God created us to be. When we let the real girl inside shine through. It's who we are that makes us truly the most beautiful, whether we're in pajamas with our hair pulled back and our face washed clean or if we're dressed to the nines for a night out. And I think in a world that tries to force on us its definition of true beauty, we all need a reminder of that sometimes.
I admit, I've always been somewhat antisocial about sleepover parties, especially in my teenage years. I love parties, but I'm a major introvert so after a few hours, I often need some time to withdraw and be alone to re-energize. Plus I like my sleep and love my own bed. I also haven't had the best experiences with big groups of girls. Somehow my experiences would always end up with the other girls mooning over the boys they had infatuations with or the popular celebrities they found "hot." Over men and boys I felt not even physical attraction to. Those conversations would always leave me feeling abnormal, left-out, and lonely, missing my unknown future boyfriend/husband, someone I could genuinely love romantically and really care about. So needless to say, I've never been the biggest enthusiast of big slumber parties. They've never been my cup of tea. But this year, I decided to try it again. And I'm so glad that I did. It shattered my opinion.
As midnight moved into the early hours of morning, our conversations turned tide from things shallow. That group of girls was a safe place. It was a place where we could let our guards down and show the real us. Where we could share our hearts, our goals and ambitions and dreams for the year and for our futures even in their first baby steps. We could ask for prayer and receive the support and laying on of hands from a dozen girls learning our way through the same seasons of life with the same struggles. We could find encouragement and inspiration and a listening ear. We could talk about Jesus. I was a part of spiritually deep conversations and moments that I had never expected to find when I made plans to celebrate with my friend. Moments that I had never experienced at other slumber parties. The Lord's presence was among us in those times of ministering to each other.
How important it is I was reminded to be able to open our hearts to others. It's how relationships are built and friendships are made. It's how God uses us to touch other people's lives and how He uses others to touch ours. We don't have to go through life alone nor were we ever meant to.
After spending so much of my life feeling alone and disconnected from my peers, feeling left out, for the first time I found myself in a group of girls who I actually found a place in. I remembered back to last spring when I had attended Lina's high school graduation. I had been alone there. I had gone just to support and celebrate with her. But I remember as I had left the church sanctuary where the ceremony had been held, I heard a voice from behind call out to me. "Julia!" I had turned to see a group of the girls I had met and last seen several months earlier in the year at Lina's eighteenth birthday party. Their recognizing me, remembering my name, and being eager to come say hi spoke volumes to me about the kind of girls they were.
Now at the birthday party almost a year later, I was greeted with warmth and acceptance again. "What've you been up to?" "What do you do?" "What're your plans for the year?" Questions I could tell that weren't asked in superficiality, but from a genuine interest in getting to know me better and learn about my life. Moments like my friend Lina sitting with me aside from the others and still asking me about the latest in situations she listens to me talk endlessly of when we get together, the big things right now in my personal life. Things many people would be tired of hearing about by now. The next morning, we gathered around a girl named Becca and began praying for her and then praying blessings over our friend Lina next, worship music playing softly in the background. As Lina prayed over all of us and the different paths God has for each of us this coming year, I felt tears starting to moisten my eyes, something that happens rarely to me in prayer. And I realized that's what care looks like. It's caring about each other's lives and each other's struggles. It's genuine interest. It's supporting each other. It's believing in each other's dreams. It's being there for each other when we need a friend and a prayer most.
That Saturday afternoon after the rest of the girls had left, five of us remained, lingering as tired, we all relaxed in Lina's bedroom with her, talking about everything under the sun. Then we five left to go pick up Panera soup and sandwiches for lunch while Lina took a short nap. And on our way back to Lina's house, I had a moment of introspection.
There I was, sitting in the front passenger seat of my friend Victoria's parents' suburban. Five girls piled into the car, brown paper bags of Panera warm on each lap. Bright four o'clock sunlight dappled shadows of the trees on the back road before us and streamed in warmly across us through the windshield. A worship song was turned up on the car stereo and from behind me over my shoulder, I heard sweet voices singing along. I looked at the side mirror and saw my big cheetah-print sunglasses shielding my eyes and happiness in my face smiling back at me. I sighed with contentment. And I realized that maybe that's just what friendship looks like.
It's in the little moments. Like singing together in a car on a crisp afternoon. Like laughing at the adventure of getting lost. Like forgetting the stress and cares and busyness of life for a few hours. Maybe it's girls who barely know each other somehow bonding like they've known each other for years. Girls brought together as sisters through the love they share for the Lord. And as I sat there, I felt a peacefulness and a deep contentment fill my heart and warm me like the sunshine rays on my blue jeans. Those kind of moments had been missing from my life for so long. But not anymore. That was what friendship looks like.
By the time I arrived home at seven o'clock that evening, a full twenty-four hours later, I was exhausted. I could hardly keep my eyes open. But I felt blessed. A genuine love had found its way into my heart for those girls. I was encouraged and refilled again, having been poured into. I didn't know who had been more blessed by that day, me or Lina. And I felt inherently thankful. Thankful for friendship. And thankful for my God Who cares so much about the little details of my life and loves me so much enough to provide me with relationships here on this earth to walk with me along my journey wherever life takes me.
"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." -James 1:17
