Liquid Courage

© 2019 David’s Harp and Pen

*DISCLAIMER:  Certain names, places, and situations have been changed to protect the innocent from harm and the guilty from embarrassment.*

Six years ago, my life was changing in ways that scared me.  My health was in bad shape, I was dealing with turmoil in my closest relationships, and I felt all around displaced.  I knew relationships were important, but I was finding it harder and harder to put myself out there.

I had heard folks talk about Meetup, so I decided to give it a shot.  One group met to watch pro football in sports bars near me, so I signed up.  The group organizer and I talked several times on the Meetup website before the game and I was excited at the prospect of making new friends.

Game night rolled around, and not only did no other invitees show up, neither did the event organizer!  I stayed until well after the game ended.  I contacted the event organizer several times, but she never responded.  I never got an explanation, and the Meetup group folded.

It would be two years before I would give any other Meetup groups a try.  New, even more drastic changes had hit my life during that time which made the necessity of community more urgent.  I did a search in my area of Christian singles groups, and found a few promising ones, but one in particular caught my eye:  Beer and Bible Nashville.

I read the group description, and it wasn’t confined to singles.  At first glance, it was intimidating.  The group was studying the Bible at various craft beer venues around town.  I don’t drink.  I can’t drink for medical reasons.  Also, the group seemed to be geared towards and comprised mostly of men.  I was dealing with a broken heart that, three years after the fact, wasn’t showing any signs of healing.  I told myself that the setting would be too scary and awkward, and that I wasn’t ready to be in a group where I may very well be the lone woman.  God had other plans.

I talked to an old friend of mine one day, and, as was our habit, we bemoaned our lack of social life.  She complained about how hard it was to meet men, and that church singles’ groups were made up mostly of women.  I mentioned Meetup and Beer and Bible, and my friend said she wouldn’t want to go because she would be uncomfortable in a group full of men.  Something about our discussion hit me the wrong way.  I thought, “Okay, so a group with mostly women isn’t appealing, but we don’t want to try a group of mostly men, either.  Are we falling into the trap of not trying something new because we think conditions are less than optimal?  Are conditions ever optimal?  Maybe I need to think about what I can learn instead of being scared.”

I looked at Beer and Bible again.  The sense of intimidation intensified on the second look.  Then I realized something⸺my reason for not wanting to go was the very reason I needed to go.

We often want big change in life, especially when we’re hurting or recovering from something, but big change is usually comprised of small decisions.  We want to live differently, and we expect God to wave a magic wand and turn us into someone different instantly.  That’s not how it works, though.  Courage isn’t created in a vacuum, and neither is the ability to relate to others.   It comes from doing things that scare us, forcing ourselves to relate and risk being vulnerable.  I needed to do those things in a low-stakes setting.  I decided to put my fears aside and check it out.

My first time at Beer and Bible, I was scared out of my mind, but there was another girl there, which made me feel better.  I didn’t drink, but it didn’t seem to be an issue for anyone else.

The next meeting, I was the only one who showed up.  The organizer had cancelled it, but I didn’t see the email and went to the restaurant.  The circumstances reminded me bitterly of a situation with the guy who had broken my heart years before.  I am not a crier, but I found myself crying in front of the hostess, so I ran out to my car, and bawled my eyes out, in private.  I decided I was going to give up on Meetup entirely; that making new friends was too hard.  But then God let me know that my conditioned response of running away and isolating myself was no longer an option for me.

I returned to all the Meetup groups, and am so glad that I did.  For a while at Beer and Bible I was the only girl, and that was okay.  I learned how to make small talk.  I learned to overcome my fears and even lead discussions during the Bible studies.  I met some fantastic people who have become dear friends.  In some of the Meetup groups, I also met some scoundrels, which I had feared, but that was okay, too.  I learned how to set boundaries.  I learned how to have difficult conversations.  I got a lot of practice in being a good judge of character.

With all the folks I’ve met in Meetup groups, the most important thing I’ve learned is that all of us are hurting.  All of us are scared.  All of us are looking for a comeback.  There’s no shame in that, and the irony of it is that knowing others share your fears often produces a surprising amount of courage.

For a while, Meetup’s slogan was, “Find your people.”  I am happy to say I did.  I found myself and my nerve, too.

THE END