Apples and oranges

Eleven years ago, I came home after spending time with a new friend, groaning to my husband that I was not sure this lady and I would be deep friends.  That night my wise man said something that has shifted me for a lifetime.

Not every friend will be the same.  Each of your friends will have a different purpose. Some will be laughing friends, some will be shopping friends, some will be deep friends, and some will be all-around friends.  But you can't expect the same out of each friendship.

This may come intuitively to most of you. But to me, it was such an insight.  I love and crave depth in relationships; small talk is barely tolerable so that we can get to the good stuff.  To go back to the beginning of making friends is like going back to learning to walk after breaking both legs.  You know the goodness, the ease, the richness of using your own legs.  But they don't work the same, and it is depressing.  

Eleven years later, this woman is one of my dearest friends.  Because I let go of expectation and let that friendship be what it was, let it develop into whatever it could be, it deepened and strengthened in ways I never imagined.  Shelly and I are very different women, with different beliefs and interests and personalities.  But we are joined in ways that celebrate these differences.

Shelly showed me how to parent. She had one boy already when we became friends, and another within a couple years.  She was so relaxed and yet attentive, playful and loving yet gave them space to grow.  She and her hubs let us watch their kids over a weekend when the second was only three months old.  Who does that?  She may have been desperate for some sleep, but still?????  She is amazing.  She has showed me over the years how to be faithful to God when working in difficult environments. Shelly is the nurse they call when families need support because of stillbirths or miscarriages or conflict. Her presence of mind and spirit are calming.

Shelly and I met in Illinois.  Our families shared card nights, movies, RibFest at the 4th of July, prayer and small groups, and life in general.  She and her family moved to Texas within weeks of us moving to Ohio, and neither of us knew that we would end up together again in one year in that small town of Abilene.  We shared another five years of life together there.  

We connected over lost babies.  We connected over new babies.  Our baby girls were born a few months apart, and we were present at each others' deliveries (Shelly was infinitely more knowledgable and helpful as my nurse than I to her!).  

This past fall this same sweet friend texted me from South America while her husband was teaching abroad. She shared some symptoms that a few days later were confirmed as ovarian cancer.  A few weeks prior her father-in-law passed away from cancer, and while grieving this loss they now had to navigate foreign hospitals, three nervous children, and a major diagnosis all while attempting to figure out how in the world to get back to Texas.  

Fear spread through me. This same woman, that I at one point did not know if we would be good friends, I am now terrified that I will lose.  This same woman and I have shared fears and joys and mundaneness that make up life, and a depth of friendship I treasure.  She is a warrior, one who has battled cancer head on (hair off) without missing a beat.  Even when she feels terrible, she still parents and directs her kids from her chair.  People have risen up and taken care of them amazingly, and prayers have gone up on their behalf all over the world.  You know why?  Because she is a phenomenal woman who in the middle of her treatments, asked others how she could pray for them.  This is who she is, figuring out faith over fear every day of these last several months.

Shelly's doctors say that the cancer is visibly gone now.  She has three more rounds of awful life-saving chemo to go through, and then she plans to have a major celebration.  I plan to join her, dancing and singing and praising as she learns how to live as a cancer survivor.  

Life is unpredictable.  I am so glad that my husband spoke wisdom over me and this friendship has been cultivated over the last decade.  Our lives would look so different without this family who has impacted us so much.  Iron sharpens iron, and we continue to lift each other up when we need.  Warrior on, Shelly.  

And if you have a new friend who you are not sure about, check your expectations.  You  never know what can develop when you let things grow without trying to make an apple tree into an orange.