I love my friends so much. I say this with wonder and awe, because sometime in 2016 I convinced myself I’ll be better off alone. I can dust myself off just fine. Tend to my own wounds.
The other night, we found ourselves in a Burger King at one in the morning, dancing by the counter as we waited for my orange juice. I am grateful for all the ways God has proven me wrong.
My Lord Jesus has been healing all sorts of wounds in me, even removing the shrapnels I’ve long considered to be part of my skin. Sometimes it hurts. Especially when my awful heart realizes that the story is not about me anymore. I’m not the table’s centerpiece and when that happens my mind whispers all kinds of lies, I start feeling like I am being glossed over or taken for granted–
God loves me like there’s only me to love. And in His presence I get filled, in His word I prove that it is true, I am not invisible or glossed over or alone. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, o God! How vast is the sum of them!
And when I’m with my friends, and they choose to share their lives with me (what an honor!), I am able to love them because God had loved me first, and wildly. Hindi ako nauubos.
Honestly, my friends probably do more of that for me, than me for them.
I had almost lost a friend to a silent war in the past year (and even that, God has incredibly healed), and at the whole duration of the said falling-out, I asked God incessantly to give me David and Jonathan’s friendship. The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. I longed for a friendship like that so bad. Losing a friend felt like losing a part of your soul, it’s true. I knelt and bent at the waist for it. God answered first by showing Himself. He calls me friend. Friend!!!
And then He gave me friends. One by one by one. Each unique and irreplaceable and wonderful followers of Christ. Each ever so ready to grab a hold of my demons and show them to the door. Each willing to fetch me when I’m stranded in angry, pouring rain, willing to stay up with me when I try to write, or read, willing to dance with me in a Burger King at 1 am.
Mems, I love you all so much. Christ knows how much. Thank you for loving me.