The Loss of a Friend

Originally posted 02/23/08, but edited to reflect present day:

Since joining various social online networks, I've had the best time finding people that probably thought I had forgotten them, or that more likely had forgotten me. I've found relatives I haven't seen in several years, friends I haven't seen in more than a decade and schoolmates that honestly, I can't remember their last name, but their faces do look vaguely familiar to me. Just to know that I can click on a friend's page and see what is happening in their lives or how their children are growing makes me feel like I'm 'virtually' involved in their lives again. There are just some people that I will never forget and it's nice to stay in touch even if it's only 'virtually'. So I've been having a lot of fun searching for my peeps and sending out friend requests.

The weird part is I never considered some people wouldn't want to accept me as one of their 'friends'. Okay, maybe one or two I thought might not accept me because I wasn't the coolest kid back in high school and didn't run with the in crowd, but I wasn't exactly a reject either. Or at least I'm egocentric enough to think I wasn't. But to be rejected by someone I've known for years and have laughed with, that my kids have played with their kid(s), that I have gone to church with; well, to be honest it's a bit of shocker.

I'm stepping back to do some self-evaluation and I'm faced with some confusion. It's true, much has changed in my life over the last several years. When I married I somehow dropped the ball on some important friendships and realized later after my blissful newlywed months that I neglected some extremely special people. Particularly, a bridesmaid whose friendship was vital for me as a single. I still miss laughing with that friend and so often think about her. She's one of the few people I wasn't able to find (until recently ~ love you Silver!).

After college, I was the best letter writer and used so much postage on the massive mailouts to the friends I'd made there that I knew the postman on a first name basis, literally. I used to be so great at keeping in touch with friends and somehow once I married and had children my priorities completely shifted. Especially with the recurring physical battles my husband has faced in the last few years (www.nnff.com - look for his survivor story under Donnie Thibodaux), my focus has been primarily on my immediate family. But I'm trying to change the trend I created and although of course my husband and kiddos are still my priority, I'm working hard on attempting to be less selfish, more giving and being there as much as I possibly can for my friends even if only through emails or comments and occasional phone calls for the time being.

But the rejection or the act of not accepting me as a friend has really thrown me. I remember back in junior high, how excruciatingly painful it was that I wasn't 'popular'. I was not the IT girl, I did not have the latest greatest 80's wardrobe, (although I did have gorgeous hair thanks to my mom the greatest hairstylist I've ever known) and I was very much the shrinking violet - wallflower. Eventually there was a group of friends that I became a part of during those preteen years and somehow I suddenly belonged. We even called ourselves 'The Group'. There were 6 or 7 of us and we did everything together from hanging out in the halls, to sleepovers, to weekend mall excursions until one day the leader of our group decided I didn't quite fit anymore.

She was the most influential girl I knew at the time and when she passed me a note between classes I was thrilled. Until I opened it and read her kindly worded note that she didn't think we should hang out anymore because our group had become too crowded, but she would still say hi to me in the halls. I didn't know what I had done, or what I hadn't done. That memory still haunts me and even today I would genuinely love to know what triggered that note of non-acceptance and social ostracization. It's no surprise that years later as a young single my heart's desire was to serve as a junior high youth teacher at church. I well remembered what I had endured and wanted to make some kind of difference for kids in that potentially tormenting age bracket. Being rejected as a teenager was nearly the end of the world for me, or at least in my highly hormonal state I thought it was.

The non-acceptance of this particular friend request has my head spinning. I'm sure it's not meant to personally offend or hurt me and I'm not asking for a pity acceptance by writing this blog. And please understand too my words are not written in a ranting or raving tone. I only hope to sincerely convey my heart, imperfections and all. In the ministry world there are many challenges to deal with. After serving a ministry for a period of time, your heart becomes knit together and entwined with the people you work for, the people you work with and the people of the church. In many ways it's a marriage of sorts and parting is always awkward, no matter how smooth of a transition you attempt to make it. I haven't been through a divorce, but I can imagine the feelings of conflicting loyalties must be much the same.

A few years ago, we spent 5 years on staff as Music Pastors at a church in Arkansas. We fell in love with the people of the church from our first conversation with the Pastors. We wholeheartedly took on the vision of the church and did our very best to put 100% of ourselves into everything we put our hands to. When God spoke to us that our season there was over, we were hesitant to leave because of the relationships we had formed and the people we loved because to us, they had become our family. But when God speaks we've learned it is wise to listen and to obey, so despite our ties there we resigned. We left without a place to go and without a definite plan or road ahead of us except that God said to go and so we went.

Although leaving a ministry can be an uncomfortable transition on both parts: the ministry left and the minister that left, there is something that hopefully can be understood throughout the transition process. As Christians, we call each other the family of God, brothers and sisters in Christ. We, who hold the truth of God's word as life itself, don't take this bond lightly because that is God's literal word. He calls us His children, which makes us brothers and sisters. I guess that's what has me somewhat confused. If I believe that my friend believes as I do (and I do) then why wouldn't they accept me as a friend? If my friend is my sister or brother in Christ, then we are intrinsically, in-separately family. We forever will be connected. We will worship together, again.

And yet, they have chosen to reject me as a friend. I am not sure if there is something that I may have done that I don't even know that I did to hurt or offend this friend. But if I did, how will I know if I'm not told? How can you fix a wrong if you don't know what it is that you did wrong? I would rather know and ask your forgiveness and move forward to work with you in the kingdom whether we are in the same church, denomination, state or not, than to stand in confusion wondering what I did to be rejected as a friend when at the same time we are still, family. Maybe I'm making more out of this than it is; maybe I'm super analytical and hypersensitive. Maybe I'm being a silly emotional 36 year old little girl. Maybe. But still even to this day, a loss of a friend, just as when I was a preteen, is a devastating thing.