http://www.susiemagazine.com/Magazine/Library/March-2011/His-Time.aspx
Any journalist knows that there are multiple formats for an article, and any educated and experienced journalist will be able to recognize them. There are the news articles, the ones that pack a logistic punch at the very beginning of the article; there are sports, which employ exciting verbs and adjectives to hook a reader; and there are features articles, which sometimes grab at the heartstrings before any rich information is revealed.
This article falls under the latter category. A beautiful story about a wonderful friendship between two girls precedes the news of the death of one of them. It isn't realized with any subtlety either, but is instead a complete surprise when the words race across the retina.
Emotional articles play into my favor more than logical, newsy-articles ever have. Most of the time, it's because my empathy plays nasty tricks on my emotions and I find my heart in the hands of those who were written about.
This article is different, though. I relate to this article more than most, and I understand the pain of losing your best friend unexpectedly and unwillingly.
In my case, no death was involved. Instead, the gut-wrenching, heart-sickening, searing pain from feeling great loss was caused by a boy.
A boy who fell in love with a girl, who fell in love with him back. Seems like a beautifully normal story until you throw the best friend into the mix. She was my "bestie", and I was hers; we would do everything together, and anything for the other. She was as close to me as my own mother.
And then the boy happened; he came with the wrecking balls of deception and manipulation, the twisted slanders of exaggerated or even unspoken comments, and an insatiable hunger to possess her and isolate her from those who loved her.
He succeeded, too. I was forced to let her wander into his clutches, her unnatural and lie-spawned hatred for me the only keepsake of our five years of close friendship.
The Lord and my family's love was the only thing that kept me going for a full year after our falling out. The memory of the ordeal would still cause tears two years later, especially if I dwelled on it.
The ultimate lesson I learned through it all, though, was the fullness of God's grace and mercy in us, and how His glory can come from the worst of situations. Three full years after our friendship ended, I got a text message with news of a break-up and a desire to talk. The fear that spread through my body was earth-shattering, much like the questions that raced through my mind until the day we met again: What will she be like? What does she want? Is she still involved with him? Is this just so she will feel better about what happened, or does she really want to be friends again? Am I even capable of accepting her and trusting her again? The list goes on.
I downed two margaritas at Chili's when we met for the first time in three years. She laughed. There were apologies, there were catch-up conversations, and there were some serious heartfelt statements and boundaries laid... and there was also three hours of laughter and a shopping trip to Target afterward.
Reconciliation is fully complete, and a year and a half has passed since that first date to Chili's. The repair that has occurred between us is a work of art, etched with Jesus Christ's glorious name on it. We are able to tell each other nearly everything, and finish each others sentences again.
Our friendship may not be the same as it once was, but it is still remarkable. The fact that we have it again is, in and of itself, a miracle, with God as the author.
