Foul Weather Friends

Meet Ang. She’s a good friend of my friend Sarah. Sarah loves her so much because she can just be herself around her. No pretension or tension. Just ease. Ang lets Sarah grieve at her own pace, rage at her own decibel level, and cry on her own schedule. When Ang comes to visit, they just sit around in silence, talking once in a while, sharing smokes and beers. Ang is sweet. Very.

I’ve been thinking lots about friends lately. Jesus wanted his friends with him when he went through his own dark valley and as he approached his suffering and death. He wanted them with him for his last meal. I want my friends with me. Nobody can fix me right now as I go through my own stuff. It’s enough just to sit, listen to music, drink beer or wine, eat some good food, have the odd smoke or whatever, and just be together. They are healing times. I’m thankful that, as a pastor, our community’s come to the place where I can actually be myself, say I feel shitty, and nobody freaks. Thanks!

Today I went to visit my friend John who’s wife recently died. I brought him a tea and we just sat and talked. He asked me how I was doing. I laid it out: I’m not doing so good. Told him about my financial problems (I’ll share with you, Reader, some day), and my general malaise during this season of my life (I’ll tell you about that, Reader, some day too!). He just started to laugh. Uncontrollably. I started to laugh. We laughed and laughed for a long time. It didn’t make sense. No answers or explanations or spiritualizations. But I felt better. And so did he. That’s what friends are for. Often the best comfort is simply proximity. That’s it. I love my friends.