maybe you’re like me.
maybe light has always hit friendship at a strange angle.
i’ve always looked for the true friend, the real friend, the friend i could trust no matter what.
and i’ve never found her.
i’m watching my daughter play in the yard with her newest friend. hours of play fly by like seconds and they say this over and over.
“we’re sisters. we’re twins. we’re twin sisters.”
everything the same. everything just like me.
it is good not to be alone. when you’re a child you reason like a child. the hope and belief that you find someone who sees this world just exactly the same, it’s an intoxicating proposition.
part of me wants to pull my girl aside, keep her out of harm’s way.
“friendship is dangerous ground.” i want to whisper. “don’t hand over your heart too quickly. keep safe, child. keep safe.”
because at some point you realize that the person you thought saw the world just like you doesn’t and all the earth becomes shaky ground. nothing abandons like a friend.
i’ve had friends lie and i’ve lied to friends.
i’ve had friends change the course of their lives and i’ve changed course on friends.
i’ve had friends tell my secrets and i’ve told the secrets of friends.
there is no perfect friend.
just human beings wrapped in all their troubles and all their glory. just people who mess up and say their sorry. or not.
but peter and jesus met up on the beach. after god had been left high and dry by 12 of his closest friends, they sat on the shore and built a fire.
jesus seems to believe that friendship is stronger than death.
i don’t why he thinks that.
why he believes that you lay down your life for your friends. that brother and sister, mother and father, are those who hear his voice and do what he says, not flesh and blood.
god has a strong redefinition of relationship for us and friendship is nearly front and center.
i don’t know why he thinks that.
but if i’ve believed anything he’s said – i’ll believe this part, too.
so i’m sorry my friend.
i’m sorry if i’ve hurt you and neglected you. i’m sorry if i abused your trust. let’s meet at the beach and swim to the sand bar. we can stand there and i want to hear your heart and tell you mine.
let’s trust the great god of friendship. let’s talk through the moments that we didn’t think we’d speak of. let’s cry and pray and laugh and talk some more.
and on that day when one of us has abandoned this old world entirely, let’s remember how peter jumped into the lake when he saw his risen friend.
let’s believe that friendship is stronger than death. and as we grieve, let’s not forget that all our conversations will pick up right where they left off.
repost from the archives…