I am a communicator. I love to talk, laugh, and write. It’s a part of who I am. I may process more than the average person, but I feel a need to talk through things and communicate honestly. If there is something that weighs heavy on me, I will share it with you. It’s how God made me. I am a talker. Feel free to pray for John how you feel led.
I am finding that this is not a subject that is talked about often or openly. But I think for me, writing is part of my processing, it’s cathartic, and if it can help anyone else, then it’s worth it to get it down.
I had two good friends, Amanda and Jennifer*, and we lived A LOT of life together, the three of us. I met Amanda a few years ago, and we hit it off immediately. I’d known Jennifer for a few years longer, and we had become close quickly, and I considered her one of my good friends. We were all very similar, we had similar aged kids, we homeschooled, and many of our daily activities overlapped. We had good times. We talked. We laughed. We had cookouts. We attended birthday parties. We lived life. These were not casual friendships or acquaintances; they were close friends.
And then one day, they stopped talking to me. Perhaps I have simplified it a bit, but that’s pretty much what happened. Amanda completely stopped talking to me – not returning phone calls or texts. Jennifer’s was a little less subtle, but she pulled away, responded to texts very sporadically, and then eventually not at all. Both of them blocked me on Instagram and Amanda unfriended me on Facebook (I am pretty sure Jennifer would have, too, she just isn’t on Facebook.)
No matter who you talk to, that says “We’re done here.”
I love music. I always connect with certain lyrics in songs, and I usually have my favorite line from a song that just hits me. This song by Tenth Avenue North instantly came to mind.
Maybe there's something I missed
But how could they treat me like this?
It's wearing out my heart
The way they disregard
This is love, this is hate...
We all have a choice to make
It sounds extreme, doesn’t it? Even as I type it out, I can’t believe that it’s happened. I think part of our fear in sharing stories like this is we are afraid what people will think. Right now, I’m wondering what you are thinking about me. You are probably thinking that surely there is something major that happened to cause this. But, to my knowledge (and my knowledge is all I have), there is nothing. To say that I was shocked, hurt, confused….is an understatement. I was left reeling for several weeks, not understanding what had happened. And here’s what happens when you don’t understand something, at least when you’re me: you start to analyze everything. I played back conversations, interactions, and went through every character flaw I have ever had, and I might have even made some up, just to try to figure it out. I found plenty, to be sure, but none that related to our friendship. You also discuss, ad nauseam, with your husband every possible detail, scenario, and thought that comes into your head (bless his heart).
I talked to many people about this (because I’m a communicator, remember?), some who know me well, and some who don’t know me at all, and some who have just met me. I received wise advice, lots of “I’m sorry’s”, and plenty of compassion. No one looked at me like I had turned into an alien. There is freedom in transparency, in sharing the things that cause us pain. And I wasn’t alone - this also affected my kids, because Amanda and Jennifer’s kids were good friends of theirs. My kids saw my tears and confusion, and they were hurt and confused, too.
We all constantly have a choice to make, with every interaction, every response, every situation – love or hate. I was desperately trying to choose love. A week or so in (or maybe it was several weeks, it’s hard to remember), I was so devastated and worn down by the weight of all of this. Rejection is hard. To me, it felt very personal. They might as well have said “You are no longer worthy to be my friend and invest any effort in.” (And honestly that would have been easier for me to take than silence.) My heart ached. My head pounded. My eyes were puffy. I made one last effort with Amanda and wrote her a letter, but I heard nothing. More rejection. My mind was plagued with doubt, fear, and uncertainty. What could I have possibly done to make two good friends reject me like this? Why would they not even speak to me about it? For me, in my world of communication, it seems an unspeakable cruelty to just completely cut someone off. And without communication, I can come up with lots of different reasons why someone would no longer want to be friends with me, none of which are healthy or helpful (mostly because they aren’t true. Satan likes to use lies to fill us with fear when we are uncertain and down.)
But one day I woke up and immediately felt the heaviness that accompanies stress, and I knew I couldn’t live like this. I turned it all over to Him. There was nothing more I could do. No amount of effort on my part was having any effect. I had nowhere to turn but Him. I grabbed my Bible off the nightstand, opened it to where the ribbon was, and I read:
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he will make your paths straight.”
What JUMPED out at me was lean not on your own understanding. All this time, I’d been trying to figure it out, go through everything, play back conversations, and there was God, saying: YOU DON’T NEED TO UNDERSTAND. You just need to trust me. A few days later I heard Just Be Held by Casting Crowns while I was in the car.
So when you’re on your knees and answers seem so far away
You’re not alone, stop holding on and just be held
Your world’s not falling apart, it’s falling into place
I’m on the throne, stop holding on and just be held.
If your eyes are on the storm
You’ll wonder if I love you still
But if your eyes are on the cross
You’ll know I always have and I always will
And not a tear is wasted
In time, you’ll understand
I’m painting beauty with the ashes
Your life is in my hands.
Isn’t that beautiful? So much of it spoke to me. I’m holding on to too much, I’m trying to trust in my understanding of things, and if I continued like that, I’d be a worn and weary person. God is not saying “Wow, I didn’t see that coming.” He knew when I first met Amanda and Jennifer that this is how it would turn out. He knows that my world is not falling apart, it’s falling into place, just how He knew it would. There is freedom in surrender. He knows He’s painting beauty with the ashes. There’s beauty all around me. I just have to stop focusing on the things that hurt and focus on Him.
So that’s where I am and what I’ve learned in this painful journey. When I meet girlfriends that I just love, I always have this “friends forever” in my head, which usually sounds a lot like Dionne Warwick (if you’re much younger than me, just nod your head like you know what I’m talking about). I had envisioned our kids friends forever, going off to college together, being in each other’s weddings. (I’m a writer, and I think writers are dreamers by nature.) I knew they would be on my side forevermore. I hope you weren’t thinking this has a fairy tale ending; it doesn’t. Amanda has never spoken to me since her initial text over a month ago. Jennifer and I exchanged some superficial texts initially, but my pleas for getting together so I can try to understand have fallen on deaf ears. She has never responded to my last text.
But here’s what I know: God is on his throne. He is painting a beautiful picture with my life, even when I can’t see it. He will use this for his glory. He is shaping me into who He wants me to be. He works all things together for my good. I don’t know why it has to be so painful; I may never know. But that’s okay. I am no longer trusting in my own understanding. I am focusing on the beautiful friendships that I shared with these beautiful women for many years. I look back on our time together with fondness. We lived a LOT of life together, and in that season of my life, these women were a blessing to me. We laughed, we cried, we carried each other’s burdens for a portion of this life’s journey together, and even though it was shorter than I would have liked, that makes it no less beautiful. I would have never chosen this; I wouldn’t choose it for anyone – it’s far too painful! But I see the beauty from these ashes. I am no longer focused on my circumstances. My joy is found in Him, not in how others treat me.
And don’t worry - I will never give up on friendship. LONG LIVE FRIENDSHIP! I can’t imagine life without the friendships that I have had and the ones I currently have. They make life richer, funnier, and I see God in them in so many ways, teaching me, shaping me, and transforming me more into who He wants me to be.
Nowadays, when my head hits the pillow every night, I am thankful. Finally, after all this pain, I can wake in the morning and see the beauty. I can lay down my own need for understanding and find His peace. I can pick up joy and contentment. I see the good gifts that the good Father has given to me, and there’s no need to focus on what’s been taken away. Life is such a beautiful journey, and I am so blessed….when I keep my eyes on the cross.
* not their real names