Spending Time with Friends: a Faithful Use of Time

friends take epic road trips

During my retreat - which I described in a previous post - I was able to name the top priority for my current stage of life: engage in practices that create space for me to experience the present and commune with God.  Maybe this sounds odd to you.  Some can't imagine how anyone could struggle to 'experience the present.'  But I do struggle with this.

After much consternation, many conversations and considerations (that was alliteration back there), I discovered that I am a '3' on the Enneagram.  If you aren't familiar with the Enneagram, there are many resources that can describe and explain the details of how knowing your number assists you as you relate to the world, God and yourself, but one of the more helpful things I read about being a '3' from Using the Enneagram in Prayer by Suzanne Zuercher was that, "[3's] rarely take the time to stop and discover their own experiences."  My immediate response to this was, "I don't understand what that even means.  At all.  Why would I need to 'discover' my own experience?  Just experience it!"  But then came a line that made sense of it all... "for 3's, the present seems to have no reality; it is only a small crack that separates past from future."

Yep.  That's me.

I'm always either dwelling on the past or planning for the future.  The present is indeed a tiny crack in time when I typically put my head down and get stuff done.  Chauffeur the kids.  Lead this or that meeting.  Write this article, sermon, e-mail, or memo.  Create this lesson plan.  Buy that gift.  Attend that game.  And while driving, leading, writing or creating, my mind's eye is looking ahead to an hour from now (will I be late?) or a week from now (am I booked that evening already?) or even a year from now.  I don't particularly care how a moment feels; only whether things are getting done.  Part of how I cope with disappointment, boredom or fear is ignoring it by planning for the next opportunity.  An exceptionally happy moment gets immediately tempered in my mind by remembering that failure from the other day.  A difficult time gets smoothed over by hope in the future.  This makes other people see me as calm, patient, undramatic or even-keeled.  And this serves me well most of the time.  But it also means feelings accumulate in me that are left completely unattended.  Frustrations, anger, joy and relief have no space in my reality.  Because my reality is a "small crack that separates past from future."  After reflection on my retreat, it turns out I don't want to pretend my way through life, being emotionally blind.  This inattentiveness to the present doesn't just harm me or my relationships with those I love.  It makes my relationship with God much less vibrant.  It distances me from the God who blesses my life with pleasures, pain and everything in-between.  

How do I widen that crack between past and future?  I tried to remember those times of my life when I FELT most alive; closest to God; excited to become, and aware of the present moment... Some of those times required a frame of mind that I would like to reclaim.  Others are practices I simply need to do more often.  Retreating (alone), journaling, being in nature, and physically using my body (get away from my desk/couch/bed) are all important.  Taking long drives in my car and going to the movies are also ways that open my present up.  Doing new things and maintaining friendships are also great ways for me to experience the present, notice my emotions, and notice my place in God's world.

Baptism(s)

After my retreat, my next sabbatical experience then, immersed me in one of these practices: spending time with friends.  I grew up with an older sister and no brothers, but by the end of seminary my two best friends and I were each gifted with a framed photo that explained the brotherly bond we had formed.   In the picture we are singing karaoke in the seminary basement.  Below the photo is a small rope.  Below the rope are the words from Ecclesiastes 4: 12, "A threefold cord is not quickly broken."  Seminary is an intense experience which the three of us did in our 20s which is an intense time of life.  We lived in the same house, traveled across the country together to visit each other's hometowns and shared the successes and failures of seminary life.  Vulnerabilities were exposed and tolerated.  Support was offered and received.  But as much as anything, we had fun.  We had fun talking about God and the church.  We had fun getting to know each other's families.  And we had fun playing foosball, disc golf, basketball, and creating skits to lampoon our professors.  (This was all on the up and up, of course.  We had an annual "Feast of Fools".  We were the chief fools, I think.)

The brood

Upon graduation from seminary the three of us were dispersed to Helena, Montana, Cashton, Wisconsin and Pittsburgh.  Marriages started happening.  Babies were born.  The three of us are now the sixteen of us.  We are godparents for each other's kids.  We are the first people to hear each other's good and bad news of life.  We made a commitment long ago that we have kept.  We choose to maintain the friendships.  We used to do this through typed snail mail letters.  Now we do this through Facebook, Messenger, FaceTime, and as always an annual weeklong trip together.  As one of us said a few years ago, "this week feels more real than the other 51 weeks in the year."  It is a time when the crack between past and future opens up beautifully.

Between storms

These friendships help me experience my present, notice how I am truly feeling and generate a level of gratitude I rarely have otherwise.  And so after my retreat at St. Joseph's we three 'boyz' gathered without kids or wives in Salt Lake City for a skiing trip to celebrate a 40th birthday.  (Not mine...yet.  May 30th for those who feel the need to gift...)

We've still got it

From the moment my plane landed, it felt - as always - like a homecoming.  Conversations about family, work, hopes and fears flowed immediately.  And so did the fun!  We were not together even a full three days (not everyone can be on sabbatical) but were able in that amount of time to eat the best Mexican food in town, watch a movie in Swedish (accidentally... but it pulled us in), get trapped at our ski resort for an afternoon while authorities attended to avalanche controls, taste test some craft beer(s), play indoor tennis for an afternoon and laugh a lot.


It's a quote that gets attributed to a couple different people, but years ago I heard the saying, "friends are the family you choose."  Friendships, like any relationship, require an investment of time, emotion and in many cases money.  These are all rare commodities in our lives.  Over the last 15 years we 'boyz' could easily have allowed the busyness of our lives to swallow our friendships whole.  It's hard to carve out a week together with all our schedules.  It's hard to attend each other's milestones.  It's hard to budget for the travel, remember all the birthdays/baptism anniversaries and stay up to date.  But knowing and being known by others is as worthwhile a spiritual practice as I can think of.  And so I keep choosing these friendships that can feel 'optional'.  Every time I do, I find it was a faithful use of time.