Happy Disanniversary

Resistance is futile.

Today is the day. Okay, Tuesday morning. One year since my best-friend talked-out on me. Actually, when “one year” is is kinda debatable… do you count 52 weeks, calendar days, or relative events?

This is the 52 week point. The calendar date is a few days from now, and event sync was actually last week. So I am picking now. Tonight, Monday night late, to get moody and nostalgic. I won’t have runtime to do so Tuesday morning.

I remember when it happened, how I was like vapor-locked for what felt like days, but was really about a couple of days. I glazed along in stasis, waiting for the terror, the illusion to end. Waiting for a friend to call me back on the phone and say it was just a mistake, like she had so many times before.

Then, the ablative shield began to wear off, and slowly reality settled in. And I talked. I reached out to a few co-workers, a few strangers, a few friends from church, telling them what happened. Partly to get feedback, to understand what had happened. But mostly to get support – to let key friends know what I was suffering, so they could catch me if I fell.

And, I kept moving. Maintained inertia. It took months before I could slow down, and finally even stop.

When I finally looked around, it was clear that God was carrying me the whole time. He put friends in places I didn’t expect them. People who continue to be there for me in their own ways …and some who do not. Some were doorways. Some were total strangers who just happened to ask an innocent question at the wrong moment, and ended up being a caretaker of my heart. Strangers in the guise of angels, who disappeared after taking and protecting a part of me.

I have a lot of people to thank for their generosity and grace.

Then, God set me down. I remember the revelation, the sensation of ground beneath the feet of my soul, very distinctly. “Walk”, God said. “I’ll be here. Walk, and gain your strength back.” And I did. I started walking. I walked into some strange places. Some new and exciting places.

I walked into here, for example.

I found that friendships I had forged with other people in the past were strong enough to bear my weight in the present. These relationships became rope bridges for crossing chasims, and the weight on those ropes made them stronger, and I built better bonds with people who had often been in the background. And I am so grateful for that. So grateful…

And then the second trimester, the second chapter closed, and I moved into the third.

Rest. Then walk. Now run.

This change has been most recent. Life and circumstance, or simply God’s will, has changed the inherant dynamic of many of my relationships. And the changes are sometimes saddening, but growth is inherantly change, and I approve of the growth – both in my life, and in the lives of my friends around me.

As I write this, I can run. My heart is strong, and I can endure the heat of the sun. I have been validated again and again, and even in the face of loss, I see that I still come through unscathed.

So this anniversary is ironic.

All this time, the river flowed… All this time, I have never doubted my friend or the choices that she made. I have regretted them, and still do – I don’t know why things had to be this way, and I don’t want them to stay that way. But I have never given up my trust. I have never lost my faith or turned my back on that friend.

And I bear the fruit of that decision. I stand here, with a gaping scar… but I am otherwise hale. Love never fails. God works all things for good. Amen.

And again, as standing here in strength validates the whole process, likewise my desire, my hope, for a reunion in the future is validated. I am inextricably bound to this family. I doubt that my role is complete. I am certain it is not. And I am looking forward to the reunion at some point.

So, I think I will raise a glass…

“To absent friends…”