During my therapy appointment this past week, my therapist reiterated the importance of friendship. I will not get into the details of that conversation here other than to say that I am thankful for friendship . . . and for taking her advice all those years ago to let others in – conscientiously – those with whom I can trust, those with whom see me – those with whom will pour back into me instead of always taking from me.

I am not who I was prior to becoming a chaplain. For those who have followed my journey and know my story, the change is broader than the effects of the pandemic and death.

Prior to working as a chaplain, I could and did participate more often in public activities. Now, too much peopling wears the snot out of me.

It goes back to what I learned from therapy. We need to be refilled in order to keep moving forward. Much like a car, we cannot go far on an empty tank.

Prior to life as a chaplain, my career path required very little emotional outpouring. Oftentimes, my work required much more planning and organizing and computer work than it did interacting with people. Therefore, spending more time with people outside of work hours rejuvenated me rather than depleted me. It’s the introvert thing.

In learning about what self-care looks like for me, I have come to learn that if I want to continue to do my job well, I had to learn to be able to say no, even when I feared saying no may hurt my friend’s feelings.

Learning to care for myself AND having friends who understand and care for me enough to let me is an invaluable gift.

I need my Sabbath day. For me, my Sabbath is a Saturday and usually means I do absolutely nothing at all that involves other people. I often veg out and spend the day watching television and/or reading and/or napping. Sometimes, I don’t even bother to shower or brush my teeth. I am about as slovenly as a person can be and I have learned to feel zero guilt about it.

However, if something comes up, I can usually muster the energy and desire to do it – such as lunch with friends or some such activity that requires little effort on my part and includes people I know and care about.

Sometimes, though, no matter how much I would like to, my mind and body simply say NO!

Case in point: when I veer too far for too long outside of my normal.

Last week, my parents and I drove to Houston on my days off to visit my sister and her family. Such a wonderful time, but my typical Saturday was anything but typical. I drove home on Sunday and was back at work Sunday afternoon.

Zero downtime.

As a matter of fact, the past few weekends have been packed with out of the ordinary activity.

No big deal, but then a friend and I went to a concert on Monday night.

Then, we had a pastor’s appreciation lunch on Wednesday.

Both wonderful events, but out of the routine.

Friday, my other day off, is my errand day. This errand day was filled with appointments. Nothing pressing, but they kept me on the move most of the day.

A friend invited me to a harvest party and Halloween party on Saturday. I had planned on going. I really wanted to, but when the day came, I could not. I needed a reset. I needed a people-free day – rest – a reset.

I hated to let her down, but I knew I needed to crawl into my shell for a bit instead of peopling with a bunch of strangers. And . . . honestly . . . I am glad I never gave her a definitive yes. In fact, I said nothing when she asked.

The next morning, I went to this friend’s church to see her preach and other friends perform. I was grateful that she was not upset with me. She gets me.

I sat in the back row and left just before the service officially ended. When I showed up at my church a little bit later, a friend who was at both services commented on the fact that I left early. Even though she was on the stage singing, she had not seen me walk out.

I told her that I wanted to run home to grab something to eat before coming to our service. (I have to leave our service early to get to work on time.)

She replied, “you didn’t want to talk to anyone.”

“And there’s that,” I answered.

I smiled, thinking about a conversation we had just a few days prior about the way I communicate – after she asked if I would really show up at the other church service on Sunday:

If I say yes, I mean yes. I will go to or do whatever I said yes to. You can count on it. My no means know and there’s likely no way I’ll change my mind. If I say maybe, I’m probably leaning toward no. If I say nothing at all, I want to say yes, but I cannot quite commit just yet.

When my friend called me out, she was not judging. She was not shaming.

Her words and her tone simply communicated that she knew me well enough to know the real reason I left early. I said yes – that I would be there, but I made no promise to stay for the duration.

I am a turtle – I am slow to acclimate to new environments and am uncomfortable with small-talk with new people. I can do it, but I’m less likely during certain times such as a Sunday morning when my day is already filled with my own church activities followed by work – both requiring me to be “on.”

She knew why I left, and she was not surprised nor was she upset.

I smiled, thinking how blessed I am to have friends who know my quirks and love me anyway – friends who give me the space I need to care for myself and ease my way into situations that can cause anxiety.

That is real friendship. I can be myself and tell them the truth and they still pour into me. I am there for them – AND – they are here for me. It’s not one sided. It’s not conditional. They love me despite my imperfections.

And that makes my heart happy.