I had a friend.
We had a falling out.
We literally went from spending any and all free time together, to not speaking. It wasn’t a dramatic explosion of hurtful words. No, it was more of a steady trickle of hurtful comments, misunderstandings, jealousy, and hormones (I was pregnant at the time). But basically, within a matter of a couple of months, after 4 years of an intense and glorious friendship, we were like strangers to each other. It felt like a death. I grieved. I cried. I felt deep, deep anguish and loss.
For a while I was angry, angry at her for ruining what we had, angry at her for being so insensitive and careless with our relationship.
Then I became busy with caring for my first baby.
Then we moved.
The wound began to slowly scab over, and I moved on. But I never could stop really missing what we had. She had been like a sister to me, a super fun and kind sister. We had shopped together, shared secrets, cried together, laughed until late at night, shared meals, shared homes, we had history.
Fast forward 5 years. FIVE YEARS. I had been busy with life, busy having more babies, busy living in a different state, making new friends, just getting on with things, but I would often think of her, what had happened, and I would hurt. I longed for that friendship. I missed her fellowship. Inside I was praying for God to restore what we had. I didn’t want another friend like her, I wanted her. I wanted what we had before it broke down and crumbled.
It’s not unusual for people to long for things they had in the past, especially if it was a good thing, so I tried my best to put it out of my mind, to just move on, but at one point, I began to think of her constantly; what was she doing these days, how was her life, what was happening in her faith journey?
One day, during a particular time I had been thinking often of her, she called me.
Out of nowhere, she just called me.
My insides churned with ridiculous joy as we talked. I could not believe that after all of this time, 5 years, 3 babies, a move and all sorts of other happenings, we talked like we had never stopped talking. I cried, we laughed, we apologized, we forgave.
It was amazing. It was inspired. I have no doubt that our friendship was restored by the loving and gracious hand of God, who is in the business of mending broken hearts, the business of healing.
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18
What I had eventually come to realize during that time apart, was that for a long time, I had blamed the falling out on her. But really, I had a hand in it, a big hand.
While I hated that we had lost 5 years of communicating, that time was critical to leading us to the phone call that finally came that day. We needed that time to grow up, to mature in our faith, to experience life without each other.
And God answered our prayers, he restored us.
I am so grateful for the relationship I have with her now. Even though we don’t get to hang out physically, since we are miles and miles apart, we have a connection that is stronger than before. We have been to the dark place of brokenness and been healed.
This is a gift. I give thanks for her daily. Thanks to God for her fellowship, her inspiration and her encouragement.
This experience constantly reminds me that when things are hard, and hearts break, there is a healing that comes. It isn’t always on our timetable (pretty much never is). But if we wait on the Lord, and trust it to him, if we let it go, he is able and willing to fix that which we break.
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3
© by Kris Camealy