Isolation Isn't Good For The Soul

Friendship is not a passive thing, and I can’t promise you won’t be hurt. I’ve been on the receiving end of these gifts when things were tough. She has even sent her famous fried catfish and homemade Rice Krispies treats overnight to our family just because. These women shine in their ability to be present and available and to help us feel seen. I know what it’s like to have friendships cut off because of misunderstandings, hurt feelings, or an inability to communicate. But the risk of being known is worth the potential pain. Isolation isn’t good for the soul. He has already picked out your next assignment, so put yourself out there. You won’t regret it. Remember, everything has a season. Some friendships may be vibrant for a time and then go on the back burner. Write down the names of two women you admire but don’t know well yet.

The Way That It Goes

What is it you like about them? Reach out to them and ask if they’d like to go for a walk or a cup of tea. Sit with them in it until words become necessary. I went with no kids since it was a night game. I was decked out in black and gold, and I sat five rows up on the Saints sideline. At the start of the game, Benjamin made his way onto the field. He spotted me in the stands and waved. He liked knowing where I was so he could see me at halftime and when he was running off the field after the game. That moment was always special for us. All football games are physical, even at the college level. This particular game was shaping up to be really rough. By halftime a few players on both teams had been hurt already, so each time Benjamin touched the ball, I was on extra high alert. Every muscle in me tensed, and I stopped breathing every down Benjamin took.

Keep Moving Forward

When quarterback Drew Brees threw a pass to Benjamin in the end zone, the fans leapt to their feet to see what would happen next. Benjamin caught the ball, and the crowd went wild. I’d seen his catch, but as his wife, I saw something more. While he was in the air, Benjamin was hit and his body went limp. I watched in horror as he hit the ground. A collective groan went up from the crowd as the ball rolled from his hands. He lay on the turf, motionless. Get up, Baby, I whispered. I could barely breathe. In spite of the hordes of people around me, I felt alone. A thousand anxious thoughts raced through my mind. What would I do without my very best friend, the father of my kids, our family’s leader, our provider? I was barely keeping it together as it was, with an infant son and four kids under five.

Take Me By The Hand

How could I possibly do it all alone, thousands of miles from either of our families? And it wouldn’t be the last. To make a long story short, Benjamin got up that night. Doctors determined he’d suffered a concussion. All the helmets and pads and precautions in the world can’t keep men that size who are running at full speed from getting hurt once in a while. Over the course of his career, Benjamin suffered several injuries, not to mention a pretty scary case of appendicitis. As upsetting as that moment was, we knew that a concussion was par for the course. Benjamin had more doctor visits, hospital trips, and physical therapy sessions than I can count. Our kids have also had occasional bumps, bruises, illnesses, and cuts. Through it all, I’ve always prided myself on keeping a level head. Somehow we always managed. I could take it in stride. And then something unexpected happened. My own body betrayed me. That was our magic number. We thought our family was complete. New Orleans was where I learned to lower my guard and put down roots, even though we knew we’d leave when Benjamin’s contract was up in three years. We got involved with a great church and had amazing friends there. We experienced a new level of comfort and connection. It was a fruitful, beautiful season for our family. Then Benjamin signed with the Ravens. Up came those roots we’d put down. As much as I’d loved New Orleans, I knew my place was with my husband and our kids, the most important people in the world to me. When we were new in Baltimore, I began thinking maybe we should try for another baby. Now I’ve always liked even numbers. It might sound strange, but maybe I can explain it. With even numbers, every kid has a hand to hold, a partner for chores or homework, someone to ride roller coasters with at Disney World. You know, the important stuff! Benjamin, however, didn’t think we should have another kid. He’d grown up with lots of siblings, and our five felt like plenty to him. We talked about it and prayed about it, and still he was unmoved. Neither of us felt persuaded to change our mind. Though I still wanted to try for another baby, I decided to keep quiet and respect Benjamin’s stance. A few months later, the Holy Spirit moved. Benjamin came up to me one day and said, Let’s do it. Soon I felt my body signaling that I was pregnant. I’d been pregnant often enough that I just knew. Still, I didn’t take a test right away. We went to England for an away game first. I got home, I took a pregnancy test, which confirmed we were pregnant. We held off telling anyone right away. We planned to wait until the second trimester, like we had with our other five. I remember thinking that by the time we were twelve weeks in, we could send out our annual Christmas cards announcing a new Watson baby on the way. Every baby is different, right?