Let's be a safety net.

The other morning I was having coffee with a friend, we were discussing the way that friends become the family we need. She expressed to me how when she was younger she always wanted someone who would mother her, and told me that it just never really happened, and that she reached a place where she no longer really needed it. I asked her if she felt like it came with age- the not needing it anymore- she said no, that she thought it just came with maturity. But then, the said something that really hit me and I've been pondering since then, "I decided that if I could never have what I felt like I needed, then I would make sure that I would be that for the other people in my life." She is a mother to many, both biological kids and those like me whom she's picked up along the way.

But that statement got me thinking, who would we be if we decided to intentionally be to others the people that we needed but lacked in our life? What if we embraced every occasion to be the friend we never had? What if we listened with all the intentional love that never got when we desperately needed to be heard? What if we saw those that felt unseen, the same way we had felt overlooked, and reached out a hand and said "I see you, and I'm here"? I thought hard for days about it, how could I be the person I needed when I was younger? Who could I be that to? How could I be more intentional about looking for those opportunities?

I realized there is one relationship where I feel like I'm doing a good job of that in. There is a little girl in my life, she has been through some hard things- I've known her since the day she was born and always loved her, to me she has always been my family, along with all her other siblings and family. When I see her, I've made a silly habit of always saying "I'm your number one fan!" I might whisper it in her ear when she hugs me, or shout it across the room to make her laugh- and what started as a silly thing has turned into sweetness. A couple of Sunday's ago she came up to me at church and hugged me, I told her "You know, I'm always here for you. I'm always here to talk. I always love you." She is nine years old and gave me the best compliment that I could have ever received from her, she took my face between her two small hands and said with a shy smile and all the sincerity in the world, "I have four sisters now, and you are one of them." I wanted to laugh and hug her because of the sweetness of it- but I knew for her this was a serious statement, it held weight, she was inviting me into her world, into her family, in a new way- so I smiled and replied, "You are absolutely right, I am your sister, and I am so glad we have each other." She hugged me tight for a minute or two and then ran off to talk to her friends.

This last Sunday I was running late to church, I came in the doors in a hurry, after I got settled I saw her and stopped and hugged her quickly and then found my seat. A few minutes later I felt small arms wrap around my waist and a head rest against my side, I looked down and there she was. I felt so incredibly honored that she felt safe enough with me to come up to me without any initiation on my part, she and I had come to the place where she knew that love from me was always an open invitation- that she could come hug me, rest against me, and she would always be accepted and always be safe. We stood there for several minutes, her arms wrapped around me, and mine around her while I sang with the worship team and I let her just stand and take a breath in a safe place. She and I have in common that we struggle with anxiety, even though we are generations apart- we also have in common that vulnerability with someone safe seems to ease it, and I was so grateful that I could be that safety net for her. She has plenty of safe places thankfully, I'm just honored that I get to be one.

This is when it dawned on me, I was being who I wish I'd had at nine years old. I'd longed for safe people, people who I could go and rest against without fear of rejection, without anxiety, without worrying that I wouldn't be received well. Now I'm starting to have more people like that in my life, but its taken time. For that little girl in my life, the process has been sped up, she doesn't have to wait until she's older to find people who are safe to lean against, safe to be vulnerable with. I am so thankful that now, I can pinpoint an area where at this stage of my life I can be who I needed. I also believe, if I keep my heart and eyes open, I'll find more gaps I can fill as I mature and grow- but for now, this can help.

This way that I can be a safe place to land has been beautifully demonstrated to me though the people in my life who have made themselves a safe place for me to land.

Lets keep finding new ways to be a safe landing spots, because in a world where we are often left to figure things out on our own, we need to come along side each other, stretch out a hand and say, "Hey, I've been there- it was hard, and I don't want you to have to do this alone. I'm here."