Friends

I follow an advice columnist, Carolyn Hax, on Facebook.  She is not the “dear Abby” kind of columnist but rather one who is honest, sometimes gentle and sometimes sarcastic, and will gently redirect someone in pain as often as she’ll call someone out who has his/her head up a butt.  In short, I’m a fan.  She has a live discussion every Friday and sometimes will develop question threads into a stand-alone column.  Today, her column was just that and its subject was “How to end, or mend, a friendship.” (I suggest reading the comments section - her followers are hysterical!)

I have been on both sides of this equation, and it is fascinating to me how differently the equation plays out for all of us.  I have had friends with whom our common bond ceased to be common, and there seemed to be a natural fade.   I had one friend who crossed a line of hurt that just changed the way I saw her.  I admit to not handling it well, ignoring calls and texts.  When she finally asked about it, I did explain it, and she just erupted with an “I-can’t-believe-you’re-still-upset-about-that.”  I have also had a friend who stopped talking to me rather abruptly.  While I think about the other friendships that have passed from my life from time to time, this last one is the most painful, most likely because it is the most recent and it was a 20 year friendship that ended.

I have talked about this with a friend (who, bless her heart, is still very present in the weirdness that is my life) and she is probably reading this and banging her head off the keyboard.  She doesn’t understand why I won’t contact my former friend, why I won’t ask what happened.  She doesn’t understand my (il)logical thinking of “if 20 years of friendship isn’t worth a conversation, then why should I try to force it?”  Yeah, yeah.  I know what you’re thinking: I should swap “(il)logical” for stubborn.  I think this is a natural reaction to hurt, to try to block it by being flippant.  The truth is, though, that it does hurt.

I am not a fan of pain.  I imagine most people aren’t.  I think it’s natural to try to avoid it.  However, at some point, a person has to face it, feel it, and figure out what to do with it.  This is the part that I am a fan of: pain brings growth.  It can be for the better or for the worse, but hurting presents an opportunity to grow.  I’m not quite certain, yet, what kind of growth this particular hurt will bring.  Perhaps it will be to remind me to cherish the friends I have present.  Perhaps it will be to bring me closer to God.  Perhaps it will be to make me a better friend to others.

I am grateful for the friendships I have and have had in my life.  Some friends have taught me an appreciation for music, some taught me how to be selfless.  Some friends have taught me an appreciation for the healing laughter can bring, others taught me the strength to be found in humility.  Some have challenged me to be a better teacher, some have challenged to be closer in my walk with God.  All of them have contributed to who I am.

Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend. (Proverbs 27:17)

Manning the Ships

There are many types of sea-going vessels: boats, ships, canoes, kayaks, scows, barges, dinghies, gondolas, yachts, submarines, etc. Some are small, meant only for one occupant; others large, meant for groups.  Some are for leisure, a quiet place to fish as the sun rises or a raucous place to party with a group of friends.  Some are for provision, carrying coal from one part of the country to another or hauling in myriad types of seafood for consumption.  Whatever the size, whatever the purpose, each vessel needs proper maintenance in order to function.

I’ve been thinking about a different type of ship recently: relationships.  Like sea-going vessels, there are many types.  There are the overreaching categories, familial, platonic, and romantic, and within each of those, there are several subcategories.  We have different relationships with parents than we do with siblings, different relationships with colleagues than we do with friends, and different relationships with flirtations than long-term significant others.  

When I was growing up, my mom told my sister and me that friends and boyfriends may come and go, but our sister would always be there.  Every time we fought, she would remind us of this, and I am thankful for the relationship she and I now share, not only because of the comfort, advice, and shared memories we provide each other, but also because I see my nieces developing the same kind of relationship and it makes my heart smile.  

Recently, though, my mom and my aunts have been struggling, the stress that comes with caring for my gram as well as personality clashes have led to more and more tension.  This makes me sad and afraid.  Sad that their relationships are not weathering the storms of life and afraid that, if I am not careful, if I don’t take proper precautions, the same could happen for me.  Sad that my nieces see this, too, and afraid they might think it’s okay to allow the storms of life wash over their relationship and sink it.

Their struggle is certainly not unique to sisters; most relationships face such moments at one point or another, though perhaps not as intense.  When I think about the times I’ve faced them in my own relationships, I wonder if I have made the passage easier or if I have been a lightning rod.  I wonder if my pride has gotten in the way or if I’ve allowed His grace to guide my own.  Sadly, I know I have contributed to the rocky waves more than I would like to admit.  

When we encounter those tempests that threaten, what is the proper balance to fortify the ship?  There is a power balance in relationships that aren’t quite recognizable in fair weather.  People will sail along in blue skies, laughing and bonding.  Friends laughing at the latest episode of Modern Family, lovers gazing adoringly in each others‘ eyes while enjoying a sunset, family celebrating the birth of a child.  When the winds pick up, though, navigating the squall together can be a difficult thing, especially when there is more than one alpha in the mix.

I can’t remember where I read it, but I recall a quote that goes something along the lines of, “Saying I am sorry doesn’t always mean you’ve lost.  Sometimes it means you value the relationship more than you value being right.”  I think relationships are built, and broken, in the typhoons and hurricanes of life.  These are the times when we discover our own strengths and weaknesses as well as each others’.  If we are brave enough to be honest with ourselves and each other, brave enough to recognize where we are placing the value, we can adjust the sails or rudders together.  

A Father's Love

My parents divorced when I was young; thus, my father wasn’t as present in my life as those whose fathers lived with them.  My grandparents lived next door to us growing up, and my grandfather gave us more than enough love to guide us and nurture is in the day-to-day growing.  He was a man of discipline and hard work who also loved to laugh and have a good time.  I remember holiday gatherings, with him at the head of the table and cracking jokes.  I remember the way he looked at my gram and the way he looked at my mom and her sisters.  He may not have been one to say it with words, but he loved the women in his life very much.

My stepfather may have started on the periphery when we first met him, but his presence in our lives now is indelible.  He is also a man of discipline and hard work who loves to laugh and have a good time.  He came to every volleyball tournament when I was in high school, even those across the country, something he continues to do with my nieces, his granddaughters.  He climbed through feet of snow to go house-hunting with me, and he has given me much time, sweat, and energy in making my house a home and a safe one at that, something I know he does with my step-brother and sister as well.  His generosity is quiet, and he asks for nothing in return.  

While my dad wasn’t around for the day-to-day stuff when I was growing up, and while we don’t have a typical father-daughter relationship now, I know he’s a good dad.  I’ve seen him with my younger half-sisters; they know they are loved deeply.  I will not lie and say it doesn’t hurt at times, but he and I have our own moments: funny conversations waiting for the movie to begin, seeing all the sci-fi and silly movies no one else wants to see, a shared sense of humor.

My brother-in-law has been a member of the family for 24 years, my sister’s high school sweetheart who’ve built an amazing life together.  I’ve seen my brother-in-law be silly, be serious, be patient, be stern, be playful, be loving, and sometimes, be sad.  I’ve seen him be a brother, a son, a husband, a dad, an uncle, a grand-son, and a friend. Last summer, though, was the first time I had the chance to see him be a dad in the every-day business of it: the disciplining, tucking-in, playing-in-the-sand, meal-preparing every-day business of it.  And it was awesome.

Another Father’s Day comes upon us this weekend, and I’ve been thinking about fathers.  Everyone has a different relationship with their fathers, and everyone defines fatherhood differently.  Some dads are hands-on, some more comfortable providing in other ways.  Some dads are great spiritual leaders, some are stars at the grill.  Some dads rock at crawling around on the floor at play, some make books come to life.  Yes, dads have flaws because dads are humans; sometimes those flaws hurt but sometimes they make us stronger.  

In Luke 15, the Lord tells the story of the prodigal son, taking his inheritance from his father, leaving, and spending it riotously.  Finding himself in dire straits, he worked the fields, eating the same meal as the swine with which he slept, before realizing the offense in his rejection of his father’s love and humbly returning.  Rather than disowning him or lashing out in anger, his father thrilled at his return, embraced him, and called for the finest raiments and a feast.  It is this unconditional love that I celebrate this Father’s Day.  This unconditional love with which I have been blessed by the pretty amazing father-figures I have had in my life as well as the extraordinary fathers with whom I am friends.  Flaws and all, they have inspired me, encouraged me, and made me into the woman I am.  

To you, I wish the greatest of days: may you find yourselves surrounded by good food, good conversation, and may you find the unconditional love you give given in return.