When You Long to Be Invited
We stood, each of us, shoulders hunched a bit with the weight of grief.
Grief from the loss of relationships that were, and grief from the closure of hope for relationships that never were but could have been. Emotions heightened by the loss and trauma.
While my timing was questionable, my fear of more loss once again became the forefront, ruling my nervous system, and I felt as if I was standing on the periphery of the circle, longing for connection. Longing to be considered. Longing to be invited.
I heard myself say, “I love you, and I long for a relationship with you. I long for deep connection.”
Maybe those weren’t my exact words, but they were definitely the cry of my heart.
Only to hear, “This seems to be a recurring theme in your life; this is not the first time you have brought this up. Maybe you should consider going back to therapy.”
Crawdad fishing in the ditch with bacon on a string.
Bike rides with little butts sitting on the handlebars.
Hours swinging on the backyard swings hung between two trees, singing “Found a Peanut.”
Turtles in the sandbox, marked as claimed by us with nail polish on their backs.
These memories I had not visited in many, many years flashed before my eyes and beckoned joy and pain all in the same breath.
In my mind, I crawled into the culvert we played in.
Only this time, I saw a boulder slowly roll into place at the end, blocking the light.
The great longing slowly leaked out of my heart into the shallow pool of water lying in the bottom of the culvert, which quickly and suddenly opened a canyon of grief in my heart.
What do you do when you long for relationships that don’t long for you back?
Well, for me, I start with wondering where I went wrong.
Did I not love hard enough?
Did I not give enough?
Did I not do enough?
Is there something wrong with me?
Am I too much?
Am I not enough?
Was there an invitation I failed to extend that created hurt or left someone feeling like they didn't belong in my heart?
I want desperately to explain myself, especially when I feel like my heart or motives are misunderstood.
I am an inclusion girl.
I want nothing more than for that inclusion to look like family gathering together - grandparents, parents, grandchildren, siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins and friends who have become family.
When I plan a trip or find something fun to do, I think, “_____ would love this.”
I generally reach out and extend an invitation.
Partly because I never want anyone to feel uninvited, and secondly, because I love experiencing life with those I love.
Travel.
Adventures.
Pool days
A quiet cup of coffee on the porch.
These are the things I love to share.
I sat in the corner of the room.
It was full of friends who have become family.
The sound of blended conversations and children’s laughter rang through the air.
I wondered to myself, What is different?
What I noticed was the generations present, the blended families, and the unspoken importance of family in each of their lives.
I was thankful the Lord had filled a piece of the longing with these people, and at the same time, I grieved this place in my own family.
Some of that longing has felt especially tender in my life and in the lives of my children since we lost Christopher.
Grief does that sometimes.
Sometimes the person who has always been the inviter simply doesn't have the capacity to keep inviting. And eventually, that person may find themselves longing to be invited, too.
Saturday evening, the house overflowed with family and friends gathered to celebrate their one.
Not just those who were conveniently twenty minutes up the road, but those who had to drive hours and hours to be there.
A 50th birthday none of us wanted to be lost in the excitement of the surprise engagement party.
An important piece of our life we wanted to honor and celebrate.
Through the weekend, I watched all of them be intentional with each other.
Sunday morning, everyone dispersed to different churches before we met to decorate for the party.
I thought, That is THE difference.
There is intention because the foundation of this family is set solidly on the Solid Rock of Jesus.
Not perfection of family.
Not a lack of tension in relationships.
But grace in relationships that mirrors Jesus.
“Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Those words quickly found my heart.
If you are like me, you may find that easier to do for strangers, while family relationships seem to be harder and require more work.
Sunday afternoon, family and friends walked this out in real time.
Homemade casseroles, desserts, pitchers of sweet tea, rolls, gumbo, and every type of platter and decoration imaginable arrived in boxes connected to hearts and hands that longed to serve their family.
BBQ pits fired up.
Ham and pork smoked slowly throughout the day.
Children ran wild, playing with cousins and friends.
Balloons were aired up.
Pictures were hung.
Tables were decorated.
The room filled with laughter and celebration.
Tired children and adults filed out into the sunset, headed for rest with full bellies and full hearts.
The Lord spoke to me again this weekend.
He said, “You can extend the invitation, but you cannot change the heart. Only I have the power to do that.”
Everyone’s priorities are different.
Everyone is walking in a different season.
And while I do understand that, I am learning that I cannot use another person's season to explain away or fix the longing I carry in my own heart.
I firmly believe that how we model family, and the things and people we make important in our children's lives, helps shape how they understand relationships and belonging.
While I have not always gotten it all right, and I have years of muddling through the mess, what I do know is this: it is a seed I want planted and watered in my children and grandchildren as I watch them grow and nurture their own relationships and families.
I want them to know that family is worth being intentional about, in the ordinary moments, the messy moments, and even the uncomfortable ones.
I want them to experience an “I choose you” kind of love, a love that says, “I value your place in my life. You matter to me. I want to make room for you.”
Because relationships don't become strong simply because we share a last name or a family tree.
At the same time, I am learning that I cannot make that choice for someone else.
Wrestling with the lack of control and continuing to reach for relationships when I don't experience the same connection in return is exhausting. I have realized that this has created a response in my nervous system that has begun affecting my life, and it has brought some things to my attention that I need to focus on.
The Band-Aid has been ripped off, and I can no longer ignore what is underneath.
And while I probably do need therapy, my time with the Lord, searching my heart, examining my motivations, and seeking God's will for my life, is also changing my perspective.
He has been working on me for many years now, and slowly teaching me to release what I cannot control. This is just another area of my life I need to find application in.
He has been and is still planting friends and relationships in my life with people who make me feel invited, people who remind me that I am loved, wanted, and thought of.
I think back to all the adventures, travels, concerts, trips, coffee dates, lunches, and pool days where I was the one inviting.
And I am so very thankful to be loved enough to be invited.
The Fear Beneath the Longing
I know I am not the only one who longs to be invited.
While some may call it “FOBLO” - a fear of being left out - I can say with certainty that, for me, it is so much deeper than that.
It is the fear of losing more of the people I love.
It is wondering how I will ever fully heal when the secondary losses of grief seem to keep coming.
The Lord planted the longing for relationship deep in our hearts when He created us in His image.
We all experience our longing for relationship differently. For me, that longing is deeply connected to building relationships that reflect the Kingdom of God and are filled with grace-filled love.
I have also learned that in grief, sometimes the Lord allows a desire of our heart in relationship to remain unfulfilled, not as punishment, but for our protection and to shift our perspective from human relationship, which is deeply important, toward a more intimate relationship with Him.
Friend, if you are struggling with relationships, family, or friends, and you are questioning whether you are too much or not enough, what I want you to hear is this:
Maybe the only thing “wrong” with you is that you love hard.
You feel deeply.
And you don’t give up easily.
Because you are fully aware of how deeply you are loved, pursued, and given grace and unmerited favor by God.
God, who has the desire to give His children good gifts, planted the seeds of longing for relationship with others.
And He is the only One who can fill the God - sized hole I have tried to fill with so many other things in life, including people I love.
Maybe I have spent too much time trying to fill a God-sized longing with human relationships.
Maybe the invitation I have been longing for isn't simply an invitation from another person.
Maybe it is an invitation from God Himself.
An invitation to stop striving.
To stop chasing.
To stop trying to convince someone of the value of relationship.
And instead, to sit at the table He has prepared.
To receive the love He has already given.
To recognize the people He has placed around me.
To trust that what He is building in my life is not defined by the people who choose not to show up.
I can extend the invitation.
I can love deeply.
I can make room.
I can pursue relationship.
But I cannot change a heart.
Only He can do that.
And perhaps, for now, the invitation I need to hear most, and maybe the one you need to hear too is the one He has been whispering all along:
Much love,
Chrissy