Dear S,
I really miss you. We've talked so regularly, consistently, over the past three years. And then five months ago all communication suddenly ceased. And I still have no idea why. I've reached out a few times. I probably will again on your birthday in a couple weeks. Because I still want to share the events of my life with you, and to know your thoughts.
When we first became friends, you were my hero. (I guess you still are.) I stood in awe of the fact that after so many people I had depended on let me down, there was someone who would keep my secrets and be there for me just because we knew each other. You needed no better reason. We had met and become acquainted with each other and maintained a level of contact enough that we could casually call each other friends, and to you that was all the reason in the world for you to invest in my well-being. It wasn't your job because we were related or even because we had known each other for more than a few months. God had put us in each other's lives and so you would be the friend I needed so badly.
I still cry happy tears to think of you, and how you loved me when I was not lovely. When I was unloving and unlovable. I had one friend, and I wasn't even sure I really trusted her. Not because of anything she had done or failed to do; it was just me. What I had suffered twisted and rotted in my soul and so I believed the worst of every human on earth. None of them were to be trusted. Never again would I call anyone my best friend- and certainly not "best friend forever". Maybe we'd have fun for a while, but sooner or later they would break my trust and remind me that the only one I could depend on was myself.
Ugly heart.
And then came you. Out of nowhere. We went from goofy Google+ conversations (as basically the only two people in either of our circles who posted regularly) to me emailing you a funny story that seemed too long and complicated to explain in a comment. And in there somewhere God moved me to tell you what was happening in my life at that time. I think somewhere in your Questions of the Days and musings on your own life, I found someone who seemed much like me. Gosh, I can't remember now. Since then I've learned so much more about you, all the little things close friends know. But I told you. And I openly questioned why I should trust you. And there was your answer. "Because I'm your friend."
And finally I could tell that it had nothing to do with me, with what I could offer to you. It's a wonderful thing in this life to be needed. And it's also vital to know you're loved by someone who doesn't need you. You didn't need me at all. You just saw someone who was deeply lonely and chose to come alongside her and share Christ's love with her. I didn't know of anyone else like you. And that changed me. I can easily divide the development of my soul into Before You and After You. It's nothing sinful, that a child raised in a Christian home grows gradually into an understanding of salvation and eternity. For me there was no flash of light, no heavenly voice explaining to me in moving terms the state of my soul in the afterlife. The knowledge was always there and was absorbed more and more as a I grew up. It was not my relationship with God or my understanding of the next life that was abrupt and stunning, but how I thought of my fellow men and what I could expect in this life. Why stay down here, if people suck and Jesus is wonderful? I found a reason to live eventually, but that doesn't mean I found a reason to smile. Until you. And then there was someone who was not just Christian, but Christ-like, and of whom I could say, "I love because you first loved me." The simple act of opening your heart to me taught me the profound lesson that I could open my heart to anyone, because I could not reasonably judge the world for the wrongs of a few. Because I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. I had a tiny strand of hope, and you were the fulfillment of that hope. A friend on earth whom I could trust. You were the evidence of God's goodness in this life.
My gratitude was overwhelming. I wished I could repay you somehow, for the influence you had on my life and my worldview. But I couldn't. You were the way you were because of friends who had shown that love to you previously. I wished at times for you to need me, but I became okay with it. I can be that kind of friend to someone else that needs it. And they can't repay me, really, but they can be a good friend to someone else down the line. And our lives could be the springboard for generations of selfless friendship and "paying it forward".
I would not be your best friend in the world. I was only who I was because of how God used you in my life. And that status was already claimed by those who had empowered you to be so kind. But we were still friends. I learned more about your interests- both hobbies and long-term life goals. Your grand ambition made my dreams feel small, but mostly I admired your heart for helping those in need. I learned random tidbits about you and cracked jokes with you. We talked languages. I eventually realized that very short emails were your typical style of communication. (VERY short.) The first extended exchange we had was the one time you kept typing and typing and typing because you knew I needed more than a couple lines. When family emergencies came up I would tell you right away. Even if we didn't talk much (certainly there was nothing you could ever do to "fix" the situations), just knowing that you knew made me feel better. And especially feeling that you actually cared. You had this amazing habit of asking me the right questions. There were parts of my thought process I had never considered until you asked about them. I came to a better understanding of myself through conversation with you. Your curiosity was in all the rights places. I don't think there was ever a time I felt uncomfortable, like you were prying. You were good to talk to, the close-to-perfect friend I didn't dare to dream of ever having.
But, as both of us have grown up a bit, from little fourteen-year-olds whose appearances probably weren't that sure about this whole "puberty" thing quite yet into seventeen-year-olds who'd at least like to think they are edging into young adulthood, I've realized something more about you.
You're really quite ordinary.
You're a nice friend to many who know you. But to others you can come across as annoying. Some find you too bossy. At times you can be a little snarky. Sometimes innocent jokes come out wrong. Your laugh is weird. I'm sorry, but it is. It helps me laugh even more, but it's weird XD And. And. Sometimes you are someone's best friend for three huge years, and then you stop talking to her with no warning and no explanation. As she reaches out repeatedly you ignore her. At least as far as she knows. You delete your Facebook and she is left stalking your siblings' timelines to search fearfully for evidence of a coma or death. You end friendships that were going so well and you don't bother mentioning why. You leave someone who counted you the best thing that had ever happened to her, wondering what she might have done wrong to turn you aware from her so suddenly.
You're not an angel with hidden wings sent to light up the earth because God gave me a special dispensation to get that kind of friend. You're a normal human being with flaws and failings, and you mess up.
And that's the most hopeful thing of all.
What our friendship taught me, from the very beginning, is that there are ordinary people walking on the earth today who can have an extraordinary impact on my life. Of course I need Jesus in my life. But just the little humans alive down here, who sin and stumble and hurt and decay and eventually will die, can give me a beautiful display of His love and inspire me to pattern my relationships after that. Weak sinners who in themselves deserve hell can do that. Little people can have big influences. Being able to have goofy conversations with someone can turn my soul in a new direction.
And eventually, every one of my human friendships will end. I can believe that there are one or two that involve two souls linked together eternally, but even those will end in one sense when the first of us heads up to heaven. And every single other friendship I ever am part of will end, for one reason or another, at some point. Most people I know in this life will disappoint me somehow. I'm disappointed in you. I have come to expect more from you than silence. But our friendship showed me that when one friendship ends, that's because the time God ordained for us to be together is over. I do not need that person in my life anymore. And when that friendship ends, God will send someone else into my life at just the right time, to teach me the lesson I most need to learn at that stage of life.
Because of the conditions under which we first grew close, I understand that what now seems to be the end of our friendship is also the beginning of something new. I'm not sure what yet. But I can wait five months, and more, to find out. I can bear that. This time. Last time the break was much harsher, much more violent. And it was before you were a part of my life. The way you changed my life and my thought process can't ever be taken from me. I know things now that I didn't know then. The goodbye is hard. I think I'll always miss you. You never did anything that made me sick of you, and I don't think you ever intentionally hurt me. Our friendship was only good, as far as I'm concerned. But it's done now. It's someone else's turn to show me something new about myself and the world. Your role in my life is done. And the fact that, even as I mourn losing you, I can celebrate what we had, is evidence of that. Knowing you made me better, permanently, and through this pain I can still thank God for you daily. You touched me in such a way that enabled all of the friendships I have now to exist. If I had reached out and you had ignored me or pushed me away or mocked me, I might have never let anyone else into my heart again. But I was right to listen to that urge to tell you what I was going through. You were there for me when I desperately needed you, and, unlike so many others, have left a wholly positive imprint on me. No offense to everyone else I have ever, do currently, or will ever love and trust... but I think that makes you my Best Friend Ever.
You will remain in my prayers. And if you ever decide you do want to strike something up again, I'll be here. Not waiting uselessly- because of you I know I can accomplish more than that. But if you want to come back I will take you. Because of you, I think my heart is just strong enough for that.
I wouldn't be where I am now without you. But without you, from now on, I will survive. Because of you. The best I ever had. I hope and pray that you and I both can touch dozens of hearts the way you touched mine as we grow in God's love. Separately, until the we leave the land of the dying and are united eternally. If we never talk again, I look forward to seeing you smiling in glory.
Love,
Johanna
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