One of my very best friends is moving to Texas tomorrow.

And I think I’m just now beginning to unpack, and process, my feelings about it all. 

A couple of months ago, I had the chance to have a good ol’ car cry with her and another best friend. We were finally able to cry out all of the feelings we’d been collectively holding in around one another. I’ve been referring to it as the “scab” we peeled off. We let the hurt breathe. We let ourselves bleed, emotionally. And though it wasn’t pretty – and it happened because of this change we all wanted to ignore – it is one of my most sacred memories.

During our time together that night, I was apprehensive to share what was truly on my heart. I feared that saying it would bring to the surface all of the traumatic memories I was trying to stuff down and avoid. But my fear was now my reality (again). Only this time, I had the knowledge, the strength, and the vocabulary to share it up front. Call it out. Snatch away the enemy’s power. So through tears, I stuttered the words: 

“I’m scared.”

(And I still am, if I’m being 100% honest)

I don’t have the best track record when it comes to long distance friendship experiences. I was 0 for 2, though one has been redeemed in the last few years. Nonetheless, those experiences were difficult … so when I heard the news that she was moving states away, those fears instantly surfaced.

What would her move mean for us?

For me?

For this sucky track record of mine?

I didn’t know at the time just how loaded my statement was. And while it was so necessary and so healing to express these feelings in the car that evening, what I’ve realized in the weeks since is that my fear wasn’t solely tied to her out-of-state move. It was actually MORE tied to the friendships that remained here in California.

This move, for her and her family, signified the ending of one chapter and the beginning of another.

And in a sense, I feel an experience much of the same.

The ending of a season of promise, and the beginning of a season of process. 

TD Jakes referenced this is his sermon this weekend – He alluded to this dichotomy of promise vs. process and it got me thinking. We live in a society that idolizes the promise. We’ve come to expect “instant” everything – instant food, instant groceries, instant deliveries, and most of all, instant blessings. So much so, we neglect to delight – or even dwell – in the process. We don’t like the process. The process requires patience. And stamina. And fortitude. And faith. 

Earlier this year, I took a pretty big leap of faith because of a promise. But it was actually the process that I think I needed to experience. It doesn’t negate the promise, or the faith to know the promise will come to pass, but when we stop long enough to become aware of what God is doing in the middle of the process, it’s a source of preparation for the promise to come.

The last few years have been an incredible promise fulfilled, in the friendship department. 

Healthy friendship. Intentional friendship. Spontaneous friendship. Spirit-filled friendship. Purely incredible friendship. 

Truly an answer to so many prayers.

And while I have no doubts that God will continue to do beautiful and wonderful things in my friendships, I do sense that season of promise shifting. Relationships are changing, some are ending, some feel even more separated, and some are just becoming way more challenging than I’d like. And it’s hard. I don’t navigate it as well as these sentences are put together. I have always struggled in friendship, and likely always will. But it’s almost like a “New Levels, New Devils” game just kicked off. I’m stepping into a season of process. A season of growing pains. A season of stretching. All in preparation for what comes next. 

I’m not ready to officially say farewell tomorrow. 

But I am eternally grateful for her PROMISE to walk through every bit of this PROCESS by my side.