Today's word

friend /frend/ - 1. someone who doesn't consider it an imposition - or a favor - to make time for your shit, when they get a chance, but also 2. someone who understands that you don't always have time for their shit 3. someone who isn't willing to watch one of your lowest moments even when the internet keeps serving it up on a silver platter

let the reader beware . . .

. . . that I don't lend pieces of my heart.

I should probably warn people about that sooner.

Today's word

lenitive /LEN-uh-tiv/ - alleviating pain or harshness : soothing

It seems like it's around this time each year, for about a month, that whoever's turn it is in the rotation for providing Word of the Day columns stretches my vocabulary with more new words than I get from the feature during the rest of the year. I love new words.

Some friends are this way for each other. I often try to be, especially with truths that people have heard harshly all their lives. But I find that my best efforts to be a lenitive influence often end up being exacerbative (which apparently isn't a word, but ought to be), instead.

even if i were to completely stop messaging you, i don't think i'd think about you any less. reminders of you are everywhere.

i'm so glad i've never let my thoughts get out of line. yes, you're on my mind often, but always with prayers that you are walking in God's plan for you.

A joyful reunion

Dear friends came to town yesterday whom we probably hadn't seen in fifteen years. We'd had two of their sons over in the intervening years, but we had missed them so very much. They arrived yesterday to visit their son, who it turns out had a commitment last night. This impromptu dinner gathering was a time of great celebration of God's gifts in our lives. We celebrated where we have been together and what the Lord has been doing in our lives of late.

Thank you, God, for these wonderful people!

Put in my place

"I enjoy hearing from you during the day."

"Well I don’t have anyone else to confide in at work. Not used to no work buddies."

Ok. 

Gee, thanks.

I didn't realize it immediately

But it didn't take very long for me to recognize how I'd put my foot in it. My friend was feeling terrible already, with so much going on in her life right now. I so much wanted to shift her attention, as her train of thought seemed to be spiraling in a way that I couldn't seem to help her out of. I just couldn't figure out how to do it. In the end, I ended up minimizing her feelings and making her feel even more isolated.

Fortunately I was blessed with sufficient wisdom to offer a heartfelt apology for my gaffe and to give her space to deal with it as she needed to. I am grateful for her quick forgiveness. Our friendship is a wonderful gift.

Two months, plus

That's how long it took me to say, "Thank you, dear Lord, for this dear friend. Her friendship has been a great gift to me. If it's Your will for her life and mine, I trust she'll be back."

This point of view feels so much better.

In the ordinary

Matthew Kelly has challenged me this morning to find God in at least three ways through the course of the day, but I've already found him in two. Some would argue that finding Him in my relationship with two different friends is really the same thing, but I think you'll see why I count them differently.

One friend is present a lot lately, and I love this. I love being able to touch base and know that someone is there, listening to what is on my mind and responding, making sure that I don't feel alone. It is the gift of presence and closeness.

The other friend suddenly distanced herself from me a couple months ago, and I don't understand why. It feels lonely. She assured me, not long before that, that she was always with me, even when she didn't respond to me. But now I can't know whether she meant that would always be true, or only in the particularly scary circumstance that she was helping me through in the moment. I wonder how much longer it will be this way, whether the next thing will be more closeness or more distance, and even if she still cares. I wonder if she would understand how my not knowing where I stand with her makes her absence hurt so much more than if I knew she would be back in contact with me soon. The somewhat remote glimpses she has left me into her life feel a bit like reading a passage from a Gospel; they reveal a little of her to me but don't always make me feel like I'm still part of her life. I wonder whether I matter.

God can be a lot like both of these dear friends for us, sometimes even at the same time.

I realize, as I finish with this entry, that God is also revealed in my relationship with my bride, which sometimes feels like both of the above simultaneously. She is always there, and I love that and rely on it, and I'm also almost always longing for it to be more or different, striving for growth and a closer union.

Safe for another year

So many birthday greetings throughout the day yesterday lifted my spirits by showing me the treasure of friends and family and love with which God blesses me. The low moment toward the end of last night which could have been the beginnings of an invitation to reenter the darkness was met with a clarity of just how much I would be hurting so many people, including those equally vulnerable -- even those who weren't part of my day and whose absence may have been especially acute; I don't love or treasure them any less for it -- were I ever to succumb to it.

It isn't that the day was free of screw up or disappointment or hurt but, in perspective, what day ever is? But God always provides yet greater love and blessings, grace and mercy. His love is unfathomable, even if it is sometimes a challenge for me to remember or believe what great delight He takes in me.

He even got me to my parish in time to receive Benediction last night. What a birthday treat!

My last friend who died . . .

. . .  or, at least, whose death I knew about at the time it happened, was the son of other dear friends of ours. Our dear friends are older than we are, so their son was just a few years younger than us. Just a few weeks before he took his life, on our way to a retreat together, I'd offered him encouragement that he was seeking the right path. Unfortunately, he'd given no indication that he was dealing with such depression. It was a difficult time.

The echoes of that time are now way more complicated because of what I learned a number of years after his passing. He committed an unspeakable offense against a precious member of my family, and for both of their sake I will not be more specific than that here. Apparently I was among the last to learn of it. Even though I have forgiven him and prayed for him, this most recent passing of a friend recalls that one simply because that was the last one.

I continue to pray for you, that your brokenness is healed for all eternity. And I join you in praying for those whom you hurt.

The rest of the weekend

We had a really great day on Saturday with the remainder of the seminars. I hope the attendees were as touched as I was by the Spirit's work in our lives. I had a little bit of trouble getting out of there for Mass at St. H., because there were so many of my former fellow parishioners to say hi to! The weekend masses were also wonderful, although the messages from the three visiting priests were a mixed bag. I am a little disappointed that we never use the vigil readings, because that passage from St. John about rivers of living water flowing from us was such a key part of my weekend.

There was also a couple hours of good work Saturday evening finishing up the proposal that we needed to submit by today. I was pleased with where it ended up.

I was beginning to feel pretty sad, though, by Sunday afternoon. I attributed it to the typical letdown that we often experience when we've seen the Lord work in powerful ways that we had been anticipating and fostering for a while. "Okay, down from the mountaintop now." But it felt like more than that. About mid afternoon, after I'd had a short nap - I had not really had very restful sleep throughout the weekend - when my wife told me that a fellow parishioner had called to tell us about a friend who had passed away in the morning. I'd known him from music ministry, men's group, and our prayer group. He was always enthusiastic, loved the Lord with his whole heart, willing to work on his weaknesses. He felt so uplifted by music, and enjoyed playing guitar and bass. But he'd also been in declining health, really, for as long as I'd known him.

I will miss you, Jerry. I'm confident that you're home now, and for your sake I am glad of it, for your praise is no longer restrained by your suffering - not that you ever let that hold you back very much. I'm sorry I wasn't a better friend for you, as you now know. Please pray for me anyway, my brother.

Isolation

I couldn't tell you. You probably don't remember your half of where we were, which might not have been in your consciousness even then, given its on-again-off-again nature over those 5 years and three states. You still don't know my half, and it probably isn't important that you do. It may have been an understandable reaction to you, but more likely was just another example of how poorly I loved you; in either case, I'm still embarrassed by my lack of judgment and ashamed of my actions.

I certainly wasn't going to tell you. The last thing in the world I ever want to do is remind you of your own loss and pain. But know this: as long as I live and my mind functions, I will be thinking of (and praying for) you on (and around) those three dates every year.

I've never been one to observe death anniversaries, and yesterday it was as if 29 years of them crashed into me at once. It didn't bring me any sense of closeness to you, though, the way your memory usually does. It just made me feel alone in the world, as the only one out of 7.5 billion people (depending on whose population estimate we believe) on the planet who was remembering that you'd been here and that yesterday was the day you left. You deserve better.

Nice weekend . . .

. . . mostly helping a friend via cooking, but also had a good swim workout and had some nice grandchildren time.

Geez, I hope I didn't add to their stress

It is sometimes hard to know how to be the best friend. (Of course, I don't mean it's hard to know how to be a best friend, although I have not been anyone's in a very long time - probably not even my wife's. I mean, of course, that it is sometimes hard to know how best to be a friend, which is how I should have put it in the first place if I weren't more interested in creating an annoying parenthetical to explain it.)

When a friend tells you . . .

. . . , pretty much in so many words, that they've decided that no, they'd rather not be so close with you after all. And you just keep your mouth shut about it for months. But at least you accept that it's completely their right, and appreciate what they're willing to give you.

Actually: really appreciate.

Prayer by the light of the wreath again this morning

First time this week, but for better reason. Was glad for the opportunity to help a friend see the light of God's love pierce through the perceived darkness, and a short night of sleep followed by a night of catch-up was a small price to pay for it.

Had a quote from St. Augustine I wanted to share, but online I can only get the St. Ambrose reading. Except for big exceptions, I focus on the Advent season over the saints' feast days, and at home with my breviary I can do that. Maybe I'll get a chance to post later . . .

A chance to pray

I won't share here what my friend was going through, but I was glad of the opportunity to pray together, to remind and to be reminded of God's boundless love for us and the awesome ways He shows it.

I overthink it

when someone changes their plans in order to be more distant from me, to either spend less time with me or share less of their thoughts and feelings. It really doesn't matter who; I always wonder what I've done wrong, or how I've been someone they'd rather keep more distance from. Of course, some people's distance hurts more than others, even though everyone has as much right to it.

Formerly, I'd always just attribute that to my past, or "console" myself with the knowledge that my past was reason enough even if they didn't know about it. Now I'm finally beyond that dynamic. I know that's a good thing, at the same time that I observe that it was easier that way.

Donne may have been right about no man being an island, but I imagine that a good many of us feel like one. I certainly often do, despite my friends' and loved ones' best efforts.

Today's word

lambent /LAM bunt/ - 1. playing lightly on or over a surface : flickering  2. softly bright or radiant 3. marked by lightness or brilliance especially of expression

A word I've seen before and always understood from context, but am glad of the opportunity to see on its own, where I didn't recognize it at first. (This is kind of like the time our daughter gave birth to her oldest child and we ran into a friend - whom we'd known from church and covenant community, had seen them twice in the same year seven years before, but had never seen outside of Mississippi - at the hospital because her daughter had moved here and was in false labor. Her face looked familiar, but it took us a moment to realize from where, because seeing her here was so out of context.)