Let’s Get Real


I’m sorry I wasn’t great company, she said as I packed my car.

What do you mean? You were terrific company. Perfect company. You were real. That’s why I come here.

It’s not because she’s always in a good mood, because her kids are angels, or because her house is always tidy. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. I go because toys are everywhere. Kids are everywhere – sometimes happy, sometimes not. And the conversation is always real. Not sugar coated. No pretending. What you see is what you get.

As I drove home from our play date, I couldn’t get her apology out of my head. I have found myself apologizing to people when I’m in a funk too. But something about her apology hit me hard … and I can’t stop wondering … Why do we feel like we must apologize when we’re not our best version of ourselves?

I think it’s a societal thing … we’ve been conditioned to think we have to be on our best behavior when we have people over. Having people over is no longer about living in community with one another. Instead it’s about entertaining.

We no longer live in a society where people just stop by to say hi. We’re too polite for that. Who knows what’s going on in their house this morning – we wouldn’t want to add to the chaos. If they wanted us to visit, we would be invited over.

And when we don’t receive an invitation, we feel like we’re intruding. Like we aren’t wanted. Like we’re not welcome. Maybe we even get our feelings hurt a little.

But what if all that person really needs is an unexpected visit?

I mean … I think about that old African proverb …

It takes a village to raise a child…

I long for a village. A group of people who are real with one another. No pretenses. Laugh together and weep together. Play together and work together. Eat together and relax together. People who feel comfortable just stopping by and making themselves at home. People who know where the glasses are and who aren’t afraid to make themselves something to eat. Who help me when I’m in a funk.

She and I … we’re beginning to build that village. We’re being real with one another. And it’s scary. Being real means you inevitably see houses and people in disarray. Just stopping by means you might catch someone who hasn’t showered and is still in pajamas at noon. Kids may be crying. Parents may be screaming. Or vice versa.

But as scary as it is … it’s so worth it. There’s nothing greater than having a friend that doesn’t judge you – no matter how they see you. A friend who truly opens her house to you at any time of the day or night. A friend who laughs with you and cries with you. A friend that just lets you be you.

She doesn’t know that I’ve been praying for a friendship like this one for some time now. God is answering my prayer in a big way. And I’m so thankful.

So no more apologies … let’s be real with one another … let’s be a village. Because in all reality – there’s really no better way to live.

Linking up today with Jennifer:

and Duane:

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Crystal Rowe

Written by

wife to D, mama to A and the two sweetest kitties on the planet, sister, daughter, follower of Christ, writer, book lover, beloved child of God

  • Joanne Norton

    True.  One funny thing for me.  I am involved with Bhutanese refugees, quite a number of whom live up the street from me, and I’m trying to teach them very basic things when they arrive.  For instance, when I walk into their kitchen and the electric stove is on high and getting ready to explode — they had nothing like this in Nepal at their camps — I will “holler”  and say, “No, no!  Turn it down.  This is the right one.”  And I drop it to medium.  What do they do?  They laugh.  And they say something like “Oh, Grandma [or Mama or Sister] you are so funny.”  No matter when/how, I can sound cranky or intense b/c something is going on seriously… they all  just hug me and thoroughly accept me.   It is a real treat to be loved so much when I’m not always lovable.

    THEY have become my “village” family.  My husband and I do much for them; they do much for me.  My kids/g-kids don’t usually give me anything for Mothers Day or birthday… and they do.  It is such a treat to be loved and to love.

    I’m not as alone any more as I used to be.  It’s a treat.  Thank you for sharing so clearly.

  • http://scribingthejourney.com/ Duane Scott

    I’m moving to your town… :) I LOVE it when people just stop by for a Pepsi. I called my friend yesterday and he was like “funny you called, i’m about to go past your house”.

    So he stopped in. We drank Pepsi. He helped me hang a curtain rod.

    But we connected. Yes, we need this more!

    • http://www.soulmunchies.com Crystal Rowe

      Come on! We’d love to be your neighbor! But … you have to drink Coke here – not Pepsi :)

  • http://www.facebook.com/dawn.c.gonzalez Dawn Crowninshield Gonzalez

    We need to keep giving ourselves permission to be less than perfect over and over again until we’re comfortable in our imperfections. After all, if we’re not a work in progress, we’re dead.  Love this.

    • http://www.soulmunchies.com Crystal Rowe

      I LOVE that … that we have to give ourselves permission over and over and over again. Maybe we have to apologize over and over and over again too … and just maybe we’ll be comfortable in our imperfections sometime before we die!

      Thanks for stopping by Dawn!