Wounds From a Friend

Wow, a lot has gone on since I last blogged, but most of all, I have gotten stronger. Sometimes there is no other way to get where you’re going than through the fire. I feel like I’ve been through the fire, tossed around in the rapids, shoved screaming out of a plane, chased by a grizzly bear, and walked over glowing red coals. Given that I woke up crying at 4:30 a.m. to a nightmare of being five years old again, no one would think I was strong, but you know, I’ve gotten to care less and less about what people think about me and my responses to things. I’ve also done a lot of redefining of what strong is.

This year I am home-schooling full time - so far, so good. I thoroughly enjoy being home with the kids. Austin is a freshman. That I get him for just a few more years is a richer blessing than I deserve. And, my sweet girls are pure joy to every day. On our afternoon break the other day, I jumped…well, I clung for a time to a post on our trampoline while they jumped. I know this for sure, I did not miss the opportunity to thank God for the moment.

I’m just thankful that God shook us back to what mattered, to our sweet, little family. It has taken a lot to get us here, as we fought to simply get through the most difficult time of our lives: lawsuits, hundreds of thousands of dollars lost, loss of our business, the death of our faithful dog, Mandy, and most painfully, the suicide of my mom, and all the blame that has come with it – self-imposed and otherwise.

It’s a hard thing, but suicide brings up a flashback of every conversation, every interaction, and you blame yourself for things, things that are your fault and things that aren’t: It’s an automatic response. Then, the fog begins to clear and you realize that unfortunately, the person you lost, the person you love, the person for whom your heart aches and longs, the person who killed themselves is the only person responsible for killing themselves no matter who you vilify, what story you make up, what lie you tell, or boogey man you create. Suicide ultimately involves just one person, even though it struggles to take down several.

I could blame as many people who blame me, because lies are never as poignant as the truth, but basically it means nothing. Blame has never been the foundation for anything good, though I think it pacifies a guilty conscience and publicly defers responsibility. It feeds some people exactly what they want to hear, allows them to hate whom they already have the propensity to hate.

I have struggled along the path, trying to steady myself and get stronger for my husband and kids, stronger for myself. For the last two months I settled on Proverbs, because I knew I was being pummeled with lies, and sometimes the only way to combat lies is with truth.

In the last months, I’ve also learned that strength isn’t so much what the world thinks it is: Sometimes, strength is sad, crying, pitiful, broken hearted, and willing to say where you went wrong. Above all, being strong is being honest and honesty matters: It doesn’t just matter when it’s palatable, it matters all the time and sometimes, it matters most when it isn’t palatable.

The same God who calls some to be passive and non-offensive has me called to be honest and even offensive, if honesty is deemed offensive. I am the friend who will tell you that you have something in your teeth, or toilet paper stuck to your foot. I might even tell you that I’m worried about you, that I love you, or that I hope you to take better care of yourself if you’re failing to. How could something that seems like love to me, be cruel to so many other people?

I could go into all sorts of reasons why people don’t want to hear any difficult truths, but I know why. I don’t like hearing difficult truths either, because I’m challenged. It means I might have to change and I don’t like change, and I don’t want to be wrong, and when someone tells me I’m wrong – guess what? I just might be wrong, but it all boils down to one word, one thing: pride. No one wants to hear truth that violates his or her conduct, because of pride. I have learned that “pride only breeds quarrels, but wisdom is found in those who take advice” (Proverbs 13:10).

I have learned to take advice, even when I don’t want to. I have learned from my friends that not every situation calls for truth, especially when you are going to be mocked. My friends, my real friends, have nudged me away from the edge and toward safety, instead of allowing me to spew unwelcome truth, no matter how legitimate or valid my account or assessment might be. And, I am also thankful that my friends care enough to wound me with their honesty, rather than multiple my mess with insincere kisses.

Proverbs 27:6
“Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses.”