I’m out of breath from hurrying {though I’m still late} and forcing my stubborn side-by-side double stroller up the hill to the playgroup location, an indoor playground. I’m nervous, too, since I’m visiting for the first time. I heave the heavy door open and awkwardly bang the stroller against the frame a half a dozen times before making it through. Once inside and settled, I approach moms and chat as best I can while wrangling waggling toddlers. I finally realize this familiar, established sorority isn’t interested in pursuing conversation with me beyond introductions.

A short while later, I find a local mom’s group. Soon after joining, I volunteer to host a meeting in my home. I clean house, cook snacks, and wrestle kids. Then I wait as not. one. person shows up.

These and other friend discouragements found me thiiiis close to putting a sign in my yard saying, “Desperate woman seeks friends!” If there had been a way to do it without looking so, ya know, desperate I would have done it. After all, I had the poster board and markers.

The most frustrating part? I was willing to put effort into initiating friendships. So what’s a girl to do when she’s plumb tuckered from trying to make friends but knows she still needs them?

She keeps trying.

Because the only way to guarantee never making friends is never trying again. And if I want near and dear relationships, it’s going to take here and now effort.

3 {not as sign-in-front-yard-desperate} things I did to make friends:

Show up. I regularly showed up at Barnes and Noble storytime, the park, and our church. Every Sunday, I would hang around church after the service, talking to other women. My husband would wink and say, “Ya know, baby, we don’t have to close the place every Sunday.” But fortunately he was sympathetic to my problem and saw the opportunity for what it was: a regular place to meet regular women. Church was a good place to find – like the Nester wisely says – an automatic bench. By staying and talking with women there, I eventually formed friendships with some of them.

Open up. As in, my house. You now know people didn’t always come, but usually they did. Sometimes for lunch, sometimes for dinner. Some of them we didn’t know well beforehand {at first}, but that was okay. The point of having them over for dinner was to get to know them. Besides, everyone likes to eat! {And remember, you can always give this a go!}

Lift up. I would tell God my friendship frustrations, and I didn’t always use my sweet Sunday school voice, either. Since none of my problems surprise Him, I knew I could be honest, whiney voice and all. God’s heart was for me to have community, and I was not the exception to the rule {neither are you}. I lifted up my friendship anxieties to Him because He cares.

God’s grace rained down on my friendship dry spell, and through that grace I learned valuable lessons in the waiting. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. Sometimes the harder we fight for something, the sweeter the success.

If today finds you in a friendship dry spell, it’s not that you don’t have friends. It’s that you don’t have friends yet. The Author and Perfecter of your faith loves you wildly. We give our burdens to Him and receive His rhythms of grace, His just-right timing for all good things.

What do you do when you’re tired from trying to make friends? What have you learned in your own friendship dry spells?

Kristen Strong, Chasing Blue Skies

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