From my spot on the gray and white front porch, I never heard them coming until the driver tapped his car horn. My eyes bounced from my laptop to the white car driving by, and I immediately recognized the two friends inside. I sprang up, hooked one arm around my laptop just in time to save it from tumbling to the ground. I pumped my other arm so hard waving I nearly took flight right off the porch.
When the car rounded the corner out of sight, my tears came out of nowhere.
What is your problem? I scolded myself. So now passing cars make you cry?
I plopped down on the wrought iron bench and shook my head. I knew exactly what my problem was. Once again, I found myself in a season of changing friendships, and it took a mad wave at friends in a passing car to make me realize just how long I’ve gone without solid, in-person girlfriend time.
When we moved to Colorado Springs in the summer of 2010, we reveled in a family first: built-in community. From the moment our feet hit the high desert ground, we delighted in military friends and other family friends who hitched their horses here too. Unlike our usual circumstances where we began friendships from scratch, we found ourselves knee-deep in quality relationships that all but fell from the sky onto our doorstep.
But a few months ago, one of those friends went back to working full time in a demanding job. Soon after, two other friends moved away. And just like that, my built-in community up and left the building, and it feels like our family moved again even though we haven’t gone anywhere.