Who your friends are

June 25, 2011

We’ve all heard that the hard times are when you find out who your friends are.  Like so many other clichés, this one didn’t truly make sense until I could apply it to my life through experience.

Before, that phrase sounded bitter to my ears, like someone complaining that their friends high tailed it out when the going got tough.  And maybe that is the case for some people.

For me, with the luxury of hindsight, the phrase means exactly the opposite. 

There are some people who have slipped from my life over the years.  A few may someday slip back in again, and others probably won’t. 

I have learned to allow myself these transitional friendships, realizing that I can’t be all things for all people, nor can all people be all things for me.

These cases are the exception rather than the rule.  When my life was suddenly turned on its head a few years ago, friends came out of the woodwork. 

A woman I hadn’t spoken to since high school heard my story through a mutual friend.  She’d gone through something similar and contacted me to offer support, advice, and reassurance that life would eventually be okay again.

There seemed to be this invisible network of loving people out there doing wonderful things. 

It has been several years now since the initial crisis struck and still I am awed to discover new kindnesses done that I hadn’t been aware of at the time.  I’m sure there are many acts of kindness that I’ll never know anything about.

These friends did not help me because they wanted something in return.  They helped me because they wanted to; because it made them feel good to do something for someone else.  Because they love me and wanted to see me pull through.

I pray for the opportunity to help others the way I was helped, and the courage to take the opportunities that are presented to me.  I pray for the wisdom to know what to do when I am called.

Like everyone else, I still face challenges in my life.  But the crisis is over.  What is left is just beautiful, painful, complicated life. 

I know this is the calm before the storm.  I know another crisis will strike again someday.  None of us are immune to struggle.  It is one of those certainties of life that a person must learn to accept.

But there is one clear difference for me now.  The last time crisis struck, I felt alone and afraid.  I didn’t know who to trust or where to turn for support.  I don’t worry about that anymore. 

I know that when I need them, old and new friends will arrive seemingly out of nowhere with a box of tissue, their sleeves rolled to their elbows, ready to do whatever it takes to get me through. 

I used to think that joy was the only thing worth sharing.  Now I’ve learned that all of life is meant to be shared.  One of the greatest blessings of the hard times is you get to find out who your friends are. 

This article first appeared in the Lewistown News-Argus and the Sidney (Mont.) Herald on June 25, 2011.