You look like you've lost your best friend.
Cliches become such for a reason and the above is no exception. Losing "your person" for any reason is painful and the emotions involved are difficult to hide. I lost my best friend and few experiences have been more challenging for me to navigate than that. Relationships end. This is simply a truth with which I must learn to live. While I might like to blame myself for each broken relationship in my life, I must seek out the lessons and welcome the blessings that each loss brings.
I HATE when people leave. Early in my professional career, I realized that I had made a vocational choice that was going to result in considerable pain for me. Academic communities are transitory by nature. I am required to say "goodbye" constantly. It is the thorn in my flesh...and my heart.
I rarely cry at real life. Literature, film, music, and theatre can reduce me to tears without warning. If a piece of art tells the story of a lost relationship or departure, it will undo me. Such separation can be for any reason from death to a mere misunderstanding. Nevertheless, the emotional release is therapeutic for me. I allow myself to experience the deeply suppressed emotions I feel regarding loss.
The holidays are not so holly and jolly for everyone. The days and weeks between Thanksgiving and New Year can be ones of painful remembrances, loneliness, and confusion for many. These feelings can be exacerbated by winter weather. I'm a firm believer in Seasonal Affective Disorder and definitely fall victim to it myself. Combine that with the losses I have experienced in my life, living alone, and my overly active brain. The results can be devastating if I allow them to be. I eagerly anticipate "the break" and yet, once it arrives, I can dwell on the pain of past losses and the loneliness that accompanies the disruption in the routine upon which I often rely for stability.
In recent weeks, I've been pondering a question. What if losing my best friend was the best thing that ever happened to me? As I have to repeatedly learn, I don't always need that for which I desperately pray. As I wrote in this year's Advent Devotional, mountains can be moved, but they can also be our protection. God's wisdom is infinitely greater than mine and he knows me more intimately than any other. Two and a half years ago I lost my best friend for reasons that are complicated and there is ample blame to share. I thought I desired nothing more than the restoration of that relationship and prayed in earnest for such healing. In reality, what I desired and what I needed were two vastly different things. The loss of relationship and brokenness which accompanied it created an opening in my life into which another could step. And, it is that other through whom God has loved me so well.
Relationships are complicated. Living in the bonds of friendship with another human isn't easy. In order to be genuine, intimate, and vulnerable, friendship demands intentionality, personal self-sacrifice, and great discernment. That's not to say that it doesn't also bring great joy, peace, and comfort. It's easy to take those who are merely "friends" for granted. We can misuse, abuse, or neglect our relationships and do damage to ourselves and one another in the process. I am striving to be the best friend that I can be in order to be a blessing to my friend and in order to prevent the loss that I find so difficult to manage. And, I am trusting God to know my heart.
I rarely cry at real life. Literature, film, music, and theatre can reduce me to tears without warning. If a piece of art tells the story of a lost relationship or departure, it will undo me. Such separation can be for any reason from death to a mere misunderstanding. Nevertheless, the emotional release is therapeutic for me. I allow myself to experience the deeply suppressed emotions I feel regarding loss.
The holidays are not so holly and jolly for everyone. The days and weeks between Thanksgiving and New Year can be ones of painful remembrances, loneliness, and confusion for many. These feelings can be exacerbated by winter weather. I'm a firm believer in Seasonal Affective Disorder and definitely fall victim to it myself. Combine that with the losses I have experienced in my life, living alone, and my overly active brain. The results can be devastating if I allow them to be. I eagerly anticipate "the break" and yet, once it arrives, I can dwell on the pain of past losses and the loneliness that accompanies the disruption in the routine upon which I often rely for stability.
In recent weeks, I've been pondering a question. What if losing my best friend was the best thing that ever happened to me? As I have to repeatedly learn, I don't always need that for which I desperately pray. As I wrote in this year's Advent Devotional, mountains can be moved, but they can also be our protection. God's wisdom is infinitely greater than mine and he knows me more intimately than any other. Two and a half years ago I lost my best friend for reasons that are complicated and there is ample blame to share. I thought I desired nothing more than the restoration of that relationship and prayed in earnest for such healing. In reality, what I desired and what I needed were two vastly different things. The loss of relationship and brokenness which accompanied it created an opening in my life into which another could step. And, it is that other through whom God has loved me so well.
Relationships are complicated. Living in the bonds of friendship with another human isn't easy. In order to be genuine, intimate, and vulnerable, friendship demands intentionality, personal self-sacrifice, and great discernment. That's not to say that it doesn't also bring great joy, peace, and comfort. It's easy to take those who are merely "friends" for granted. We can misuse, abuse, or neglect our relationships and do damage to ourselves and one another in the process. I am striving to be the best friend that I can be in order to be a blessing to my friend and in order to prevent the loss that I find so difficult to manage. And, I am trusting God to know my heart.
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