You're young until you're not

Last night was my BFF Mo's annual Christmas party. This is my second year attending, and it is always an interesting endeavour for me. (I spelled 'endeavour' that way in honor of the British guy that came this year). One reason that it's interesting is that other than Mo and C, I don't know anyone else there. Out of the circle of friends that Mo and I hang with at school, I'm the only one that gets the super-secret text invite.

Last year, there was much drink and debauchery. There was loudness, lots of food, lots of alcohol, and for this two-glasses-of-wine girl, lots of people-watching. I didn't know anybody there, but I'm the type of person that can comfortably talk to anyone about anything, so I participated in the conversations just as well and as much as the people that had known Mo and C since high school. We reminisced about our high school and college days, and told a few stories here and there, and made new friends.

This year, I knew almost everyone there, and could connect the dots of who came with/went with/ was married to whom. And though we hadn't seen each other in a year, we could still be friends and have conversations and hug when we left.

The funny thing about this year was that the tone of the evening was almost 180 degrees different than last year. There was hardly any drinking, though there was the most brilliant Martha-Stewart-ish idea for jello shots and I am totally filing that in the brain should I ever need to bring or have jello shots for a party. Mo is 9 months pregnant, J and L just got married, E and J are about to get married, K is finally in a stable relationship, and K and B just got their relationship sorted out.

We were all grown-ups. At one point, this fact slapped us all in the face as we were sitting on the couch, watching the Cowboy game, and having frank discussions about why SoftScrub was better than the Magic Eraser, and then we quickly switched to discussing the difference between subsidized and unsubsidized student loans. We're not young anymore. It's getting all too real.

And as for why I'm the only one of our group of friends that gets invited...well, for starters, I don't have to be babysat. Mo can go be the hostess to everyone and not have to worry if I'm having a good time or having someone to talk with.

The other reason is that Mo has a, um...eclectic group of friends. This group has been together through thick and thin, junior high to the work force, parents' divorces, serious illnesses, and quite a few of them coming out of the closet, as well as a couple of parents doing the same. When they all started being together and cemented their friendship and love for each other, they were not doctor or hairdresser or straight or gay. They were all just people.

Mo and I have had discussions about how hard it is to love Jesus and also someone who is gay. Her brother is. Some of her best friends are. And they are in stable relationships and just exude love to each other and to others there, and to me the outsider. And Mo knows that to her (and by proxy, to her friends) I am judgement-free. She knows she can leave me, the girl who all but lives at church and wears a cross around her neck, with her friends and not have to worry about me offending anyone or coming off as judgemental or even saying anything that would make someone uncomfortable.

Her friends know that I'm a Jesus-lover. They know I'm typically one of the first ones to leave the party because I have to get up early the next morning, and they know why I have to get up early. And after last year, they also know that I'm not going to judge them, and I'm not going to act uncomfortable around them (with the exception of the boy and girl all but making out on the couch next to me) and I'm going to treat them like they were just people. Because they are just people. People who love. People who hurt. People who struggle. People who celebrate. People who cry. People.

We're all people. And Jesus came for us all. And if He can love them all, I can try my hardest to do the same. Especially when they make it easy. I can accept them because they can accept me.