It seems that with every small, and sometimes, hardly noticeable shift in life, the way I’m showing up in friendships takes on different forms. Things have felt different lately and I can’t quite put my finger on what has changed or if I have changed. I’d like to examine some considerations and offer some thoughts.

For most of my pre-military life I had a wide circle of in-person friends. High school friends. College and sorority friends. First teaching job friends. Young married couple friends. Mom of littles friends. Church friends.

In each of those seasons it never felt lonely because I was constantly surrounded by others in a similar stage of life. Their physical presence was near. The hours we spent together tallied up and equaled something significant. We showed up for each other in a mutual way. We took care of each other. We listened to each other. Celebrated and grieved with each other. We had history and there was a predictable reliability to knowing your people had your back, were always going to be there for you, and loved you no matter what.

It never felt like work to make friends or be together. Friendship felt easy, natural. Making and keeping friends was something I didn’t even think about or notice. It was simply a part of life.

When we moved away from our hometown in 2011, I left behind all of those circles of friends- or at least, I left behind the ability to gather with them in person. Sure, I’ve kept up with many of these friends through calls, text messages, or social media, but it’s really not the same. I see a few folks here and there when we travel back home, but largely our lives have all moved on from each other due to lack of physical proximity. There’s a certain level of in-person repetitions you have to have with your people to maintain the intimacy, vulnerability, and care of the friendship.

For the past 15 years, friendship has taken on a new flavor in the form of military spouse friends. This is a unique type of friend in that you get to know people quickly. There’s a certain shorthand and you just jump right in and go for it. There’s beauty in that, but there is also something superficial and surface. Sometimes it’s simply a friendship of convenience and happenstance and once you move on to the next duty station you quite literally move on. This type of friendship, too, relies on proximity.

During our early military years, that shorthand came in the form of other mom friends with kids of similar ages to our three. Sometimes friendship was formed at chapel services or homeschool meetups. Sometimes friendship was formed in the neighborhood or extracurricular activities. I have also been blessed to find a mentor type friend at each duty station– a person at least one or two life seasons ahead of me that has served as a partner in spiritual accountability and as a source of wisdom and encouragement. Many of these friendships were forged in the flames of a sacred, shared hardship: military service.

Just like my “back home” friends, as we move away from each place, I do keep in touch with several military-connected friends. But when you go from regular, in-person time together to then relying on texts, phone calls, or sharing memes on Instagram, the friendship naturally shifts and evolves. It’s weird because you are dually trying to maintain closeness with the friends you just said goodbye to and at the exact same moment, create new connections at the new place.

I’ve written and spoken about this a lot, but this constant cycle of friend-making can take it out of a girl. You leave and grieve and then you try to arrive and thrive. The leaving, saying goodbye, and mourning the loss of friendships is real. It is truly a form of grief. And while you are grieving, you’re also very physically and mentally busy setting up your new life and you know that it’s crucial to begin the friend journey all over again.

So– you put yourself out there. You show up. You sign up. You volunteer. You participate. You smile. You invite. You host. You meet up. All of this takes significant time, effort, and energy. You keep at it. You stay intentional and diligent because you know you need to have some local, close proximity friends in your circle. I’ve repeated this cycle now with assignments at Fort Bliss, Fort Gordon, Fort Jackson, Fort Polk, Fort Campbell, Fort Eustis, Fort Stewart, and I’ll do it all again next summer…destination unknown.

But here’s the thing, the fatigue of this cycle is catching up with me. I can feel myself fighting it a little more each time we move. I can feel the tension of not having it in me to keep pursuing and undertaking the effort, but I also know that loneliness of having only surface-level acquaintance type friends.

Lately, I find myself relying on long phone calls with a dozen or so friends from other seasons of life. Some weekly, some once or twice a month, and these phone calls fill me up and sustain me, truly. It’s these friends that you can go deep with. And if I hadn’t made the effort one, two, five, duty stations ago, or twenty years ago during first teaching jobs, or thirty-five years ago as teenager…those friendships wouldn’t exist today. So I remind myself, that while the phone calls are great, I’ve got to get out there in real time with real face to face efforts.

Because I also need in-person, proximity friends–people that live in my town. People I can link up with for a coffee or a walk. People that want to mutually invest in friend things like having each other over to hang out. Or planning a day at the beach or going out for lunch or a movie. I loathe the phrase “doing life,” but that really is the sentiment. I need some “doing life,” in-person friends whose connection runs deeper than the fact that both of our husbands are in the army.

This is all complex and nuanced. And yet it is also simple and obvious. We all need friendships. The efforts to make, establish, and maintain friendships are important and worth the work.

As we approach our next assignment, our first without any of our kids at home, I am already considering what needs to be true for me to flourish and thrive in my desire for close friendships. I’m sure I’ll keep workshopping this, but here’s what I’ve got so far:

• remember that God is the first, primary, and closest friend; truly– when I spend time with God I find that I am better able to put all friendship into proper perspective (Proverbs 18:24)
• no matter the work demands, it is important for Ryan and I to re-establish rhythms that encourage shared “couple” friends; we have not prioritized this in the past few years and we’ll need to revisit this together
• recommit to the art of the invitation: even if unreciprocated, keep inviting people over for dinner, for game nights, for dessert and coffee– just keep at it because it always feels wonderful to host people, feed them, and fellowship in your home
• consider that we typically have a tighter network of in-person friends when we choose to live on post due to convenience of chapel, neighbors, gyms, and other naturally occurring opportunities
• entertain the idea that it may be time to re-invest myself into a regularly meeting women’s ministry like an IF-Table, a Bible study, or PWOC group (maybe)
• imagine that there could be other, new-to-explore hobbies and interests that might be friend-meeting opportunities (tennis, pickleball, fitness classes, yoga, pilates, hip hop dance, community theater, book clubs, bunco, Mahjong, or a writing group)– the sky really is the limit; and be a starter and a gatherer– if a group doesn’t exist then start one yourself
• continue to maintain regular contact (via phone calls, regular text and voice messages) with my existing friends; I’ll have even greater time freedom so I can also plan for more in-person trips or meetups

Okay, I think that’s all I’ve got for now. If you’ve read this far, you are a real one.

If you have read this and you are a friend who is in a similar lifestyle of constantly remaking yourself and reimagining friendships, I see you, I feel you, and I love you. Keep doing the work. Keep putting yourself out there. It’s always worth the effort.

And if you read this and you are a friend who has lived in the same place for a long, long time and you are happy, settled, and fulfilled in your friendships, I challenge you to keep your eyes and hearts open to other women in your neighborhood, church, or existing circles. Invite them in. Offer them access to your group. Open the door. Set the table. Make the coffee. Save a seat. There’s always room for one more and establishing a new friendship will be a blessing to you both.