As you know if you've followed my blogs at all, after living for most my life in the same town, we moved 6 years ago just over the hill into the country--which was in a different town, with new shopping, a new church congregation, new friends, etc. It was HARD. It was also a lot of fun and how I loved that life. But now we've moved AGAIN. So after over 35 years of living mostly in just one town--my hometown, I've moved twice over the last 6 years. Sigh. I don't like it. At. All.
Of course, I can't complain about the new house:
But this time we've moved even further away from my hometown friends--a little too far away for the casual drop-in visit or the quick trip to the favorite store. And we've moved away from the friends in the little country town too. And we've moved into yet another new church congregation. That's the hardest part. And the best part. For one thing, in the LDS church, every congregation is part of the same whole--we all share the same organization and, of course, the same doctrine. We consider ourselves to be brothers and sisters. It's comforting to know that wherever I move in the WHOLE WORLD, there will be an LDS congregation, whether large or small, to welcome and embrace me.
However, even though I have been welcomed into this new congregation, nothing can change the fact that for me, the chapel is full of strangers. And that's the hardest part for me. The majority of my life has been spent among long-time friends. The people at my hometown church watched me and my siblings grow up, then they welcomed me back as a married woman and they watched my children grow up! Those hometown church folk were my FAMILY! They made the social aspect of church pretty comfortable--I knew them and their families and they knew me and mine. It's so nice to be KNOWN. So when I sit in this new congregation, full of strangers, my spoiled heart just squeezes and I wish I were back where I know people.
Now. I've been in this new town for about 2 1/2 months, so I've met a few people at church. I'm teaching piano lessons and I really enjoy chatting with the moms as they pick up and drop off. I'm getting to feel friendly with a few ladies here. And here's the point of this whole blog: on Sundays when I enter that chapel, I scan the faces, I look for those who are becoming familiar, I seek to exchange some mutual recognition of budding friendship with those I've chatted with: I look for that eye contact, that smile. And it's surprising to me how often it is not there! Why is that? Are these ladies too busy with their children and other friends that they're just not in the noticing zone? Do they figure that I've been here long enough so that they don't need to make the friendly effort with the new girl? Are they just a little insecure and don't think I'll smile back if they were to meet my eyes and grin? Oh, how I wish they would!
And it spurs me to ask myself: how often have I skipped past the eye contact with someone who was seeking a little visual confirmation of our friendship? How often have I been too wrapped up in my own agenda that I didn't even look at the faces surrounding me? All too often, I suspect.
So I resolve to pay attention to the little things. Most people don't need the big gesture, just a continual supply of the small indications of friendship--a quick email or text, a smile, eye contact with just that little raise of the brow that says "we share stuff". This is the kind of warm stuff that friends share with little or no thought. Just a little eye contact.
