lunch

What do 99% of Sunday morning church goers seem to do after they walk away from the post-service mingle? Go out to lunch, right? A routine. A ritual. A given.

Today's lunch I sat surrounded by 3 beautiful friends. I dove into the bagel sandwich that has been calling my name all week, named appropriately and affectionately after the glorious Zambain football/soccer team, Chipolopolo. We talked fashion, we shared our hardships, we exchanged work/life updates. We laughed. We listened. We shared.

To the other 3 women, it was probably just a lunch. But it was so, so much more than a lunch for me.

Today's bagel sandwich marked the light at the end of the tunnel of an intensely painful season.

One that consisted of dozens, hundreds of meals eaten alone.

And-
Raw, honest, messy prayers crying out for just one friend here in Zambia.
Days of loneliness and frustration resulting from seemingly not-improving isolation.
An exhaustion of my large DVD collection.
Too many awkward introductions and first conversations.
Bold texts, a confidence totally apart from anything inside of me.
Doubting God's ability to provide community, of His goodness even.
Being "that girl" who tags along to anything and everything involving expats/missionaries under 30.
Being a girl completely different than who I was so comfortably used to in the States.
Fear of never finding friends like the amazing ones I shared my life with in college and continue to Skype/email with weekly.
Feeling weird.
Running every errand alone, squeezing them in before sunset to keep myself safe.
Going from minibus riding, to never leaving my house, to getting a car and braving the ZamRoads just to get out and be around people.
Tears.
Met by the joy of Jesus, romancing my heart in reminders that He will never leave me.

Lunch wasn't just lunch. And this weekend, filled with home manicures, cookie dough, Serendipity, a market visit, Thai food, and a blessing of a church, wasn't just another weekend. It was one filled with something beautiful: friends. 

Grace. Grace upon grace.

Thank you Jesus for the incredible gift of friends, of community who is there through the good, the bad, the frustrating of life here in Zambia. For the ones both at home, sacrificing time to spend with me despite their busy lives, and the wonderful new ones here in Zambia who know a bit better what life is like as a formerly-alone 20-something in this big country.

You know what though? And I'm not just saying this. But I am thankful for the season I'm stepping out of. Because God reminded me that He is all I will ever need. That He doesn't ever withhold His good. That His timing is perfect. He's given me these great friends at just the right time for each of us. I needed time alone, removed from my comfort of always-available friends who know every single thing about me, to see what they are. They're grace. And Jesus is the Giver, the Provider, Love.

If you would've told me about this day back in August, I would've probably laughed in your face (and cried out of frustration later) but Jesus gives immeasurably more than all we can ask for or imagine. Not just one friend. But four, and others. Friends who I can walk beside in the crazy, chaotic, beautiful life that is life here in Zambia.

Jesus thank you for bagel sandwich lunches.