There is a poem written by an unknown author about how people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. I heard that for the first time when I was in my 20’s. The saying is one I have thought of repeatedly throughout my adulthood. People come and go. I like to rearrange my furniture, but I prefer to keep friendships as they are.

I was sitting at lunch with my family a couple of weeks ago when a long-time friend came up to our table and commanded me to stand. It was a really strange way to start a conversation, but I complied. When I stood, she proceeded to hug me. In the conversation that followed, she shared a memory that popped up on her Facebook wall. I wrote on her wall years ago about needing a hug. She came to our table that day to make good on a request I made so long ago that I don’t remember writing it. Knowing her, she probably met the need back then too.

Years ago, when I posted the request for a hug on my friend’s wall, we were good friends. For a couple of years, our lives intersected regularly. We had lunch together and occasionally went on day trips. Life happened, though, and we lost contact for about 6 years. Nothing bad happened. There was no drama or upset. Our trajectories had simply diverged.

One day at church, in walked my friend. Her being there felt odd. I was happy because she is a top-notch human. Back when our lives intersected, she felt like the little sister I always wanted. When we no longer crossed paths, I felt loss. In a way, her walking into church that day felt like she was back from the dead. That is definitely a dramatic and strange thing to say. I know! It is, however, how I felt. I never shared that with her or anyone else. Some things are just too weird to put words on. So, for a long time now, our lives have intersected again, just not like before.

After our restaurant hug a couple of weeks ago, I started processing why it felt so strange to see my friend regularly again.

No matter how hard we fight it, sometimes, our personal baggage informs our behavior. My battle with baggage is lost again and again on the field of friendships. So many battles occur on that field because of my deep need for acceptance. I either come on too strong or remain too distant. It is rare for me to land with both feet in the middle of a healthy friendship. It is like I am playing a perpetual game of Wipeout where only a clean run ends in a lasting friendship. For that reason, I have just a handful of friendships that have stood the test of time.

I have a friend in Florida who struggles with accepting death. She prefers to believe that people do not die, but instead, “move to Iowa”. She never plans to go to Iowa. In her mind, it is easier to accept that her loved ones just live far, far away in a place she never plans to visit. However untrue, I track with her thinking on that. The thought has, however, muddied my grasp on the feeling of loss and the finality of death. In my realm of forging friendships, many, many people have “moved to Iowa”. My sweet, huggable friend is the first one who has returned.

Her prompting to give me a hug served up an opportunity for us to converse about how our lives intersect now. It turned out that we both felt like something was amiss between us. Long story short, I was feeling shame because I felt like I failed her as a friend all those years ago. I was the one who left the church we were both attending at the time. That shame (my baggage) was informing how I treat her now. I made some incorrect assumptions about how she must see me.

I still don’t have a definitive answer for whether our friendship is for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. I am, however, grateful for the opportunity to reveal specifically how some of my baggage is doing me and the people around me a huge disservice. We all need a light shined into our hidden places sometimes. We can’t fix what we aren’t aware of. Armed with fresh insight, we can charge back out on the battlefields of our lives and emerge victorious more often.

What is the name of the baggage battlefield where you fight the most gruesome battles? When was the last time you gained any fresh insight regarding that baggage? On the flip side… when was the last time you felt a prompting to reach out to someone you do not typically hang out with? When have you felt a strange tug to offer a simple kindness? We aren’t always aware of where we need a light shined. Also, we never know how we can shine a light for someone else.

Can we agree to be intentional in November? Let’s pay attention to promptings while looking for clues that will bring victory for our own battles. A little light can make a huge difference, and that is something we can all provide for each other.