On Friendship

My friend just left my house after a sweet visit. We hadn't spent time together since I had just one baby; now I have a toddler and two big kids. A lot of crazy things swirled around us winding down to the end of our friendship and I didn't understand her or our other friends... I just shut down, shut them out, and crawled into a self-righteous cocoon (i.e. ministry) for a few years.

I have said lots of stupid and hurtful things over the years to various people. Sometimes they were acid and I knew it; other times I just spoke from my heart without thinking of how it would come across. I've hurt lots of people. I've apologized to lots of people. I've seen various responses.

Obviously the most precious and healing responses are "thank you" and "I forgive you." (Hint: you can say "thank you" even if you're not totally over it.)  Many people cautiously forgive and act cool, but don't open opportunities to rebuild trust and restore closeness. There's just a little extra distance in the relationship ever after. Some people don't respond at all to an apology, they just withdraw for a while--a couple weeks, or a couple years--to get over it on their own and then act like nothing happened. And I can't blame them--sometimes it takes me weeks or years to cough up the apology.

I had thought of contacting my old friend many, many, many times. We shared a locker in high school. She was a Biggest Fan friend, who encouraged me no matter what I did. We stayed in touch through college. She prayed for me like crazy while I went through family drama. She helped with my wedding. But then the breakdown, and the years of silence... I always thought of her on her birthday. I creeped on her Facebook page once in a while to see what she was up to. But I was too ashamed to get in touch.

In all the times I have apologized for being an asshole, this is the first time someone responded so kindly: "That must have been difficult for you." I wronged her. I withdrew my support for my friend in a difficult time. And now that I finally apologize eight years later, she calls my apology courageous. It makes me want to cover my head and weep.

She was in my heart as I reflected on a recent "find out who your friends are" experience. I tried to accommodate friends I hoped to make, over the friends I already have, and regretted it. It got me thinking about cherishing the friends I have, the ones who stand by, the ones who are there. The ones who tolerate my devil's advocate speeches, the ones who are glad that I tell them the truth, the ones who loan me sweatpants when I don't want to stay in my booty shorts to hang out with friends after the gym. I am realizing (very slowly) that good friends are not so easy to find... especially for a big mouth like me!

(Nothing against the potential friendships that don't quite work out. Sometimes it's just lack of time, or chemistry... Some people are not ready to invest. Some people are just full up on friendship and don't have time to add one. That's ok. It's disappointing, but it's not personal. It is what it is.)

It's a bit like Marie Kondo's big epiphany in The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: instead of focusing on what to get rid of and what is not there, focus on what is there. Focus on what is left when you've cleaned up, those things that have made the cut and stayed with you. Enjoy what is there.

I couldn't decide on a New Year's resolution, and it's very late, but maybe I could make it a Lent resolution, a Lent-and-the-rest-of-my-life resolution. Cherish the ones who are there. Cherish the sister who does call instead of fretting about the one who doesn't. Cherish the friend who helps instead of resenting the ones who don't. I'll leave the door open for new friends, but this year I'm going to make it a priority to invest in my friends who are already tried and true.