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)