I first posted this almost 10 years ago, prompted by a text from a friend reminding me of our first meeting. I met that same friend for lunch last week, now 46+ years after we first met. Before we met I went back and read the original post. Looking back over the past 10 years, so much has changed, and yet some things remain the same. That friend and I, who shared the joys of weddings and parenthood; the loss of parents and other loved ones, now exchange photos and stories of grandchildren. We talked about the friendships that endure, in spite of the differences of opinion we may have over current events. And we’re grateful for the continued connection.

I am amazed by the fact that so much of this post still remains true. Some of those relationships have faded away, unintentionally or maybe just through the natural attrition that takes place as we age and our priorities change; some of those friendships are still intact, and it seems that one consistent factor in those long-standing relationships is the reciprocal caring and support which exists regardless of what some may perceive as “divisive” issues.

I have moved multiple times since this first post, and I find I am still attentive to those “first impressions” when moving into a new area. And I believe I still pay attention to those “parting ” scenes. Most importantly, I would like to think I’m a bit more intentional about the time spent in between the two.

Having just entered my 70th year of life (I turned 69 a few weeks ago), I am grateful that I have not succumbed too often to those periodic bouts of isolationism that my pride and misguided self-reliance make me prone to. It’s not always easy to do; sometimes I just get weary or maybe lazy. But I know it’s always worth it.

I received a text from a friend a few weeks ago. It simply said “I met you 36 years ago today”. It made me smile. It also made me think about the circumstances of that meeting, and wonder how many other “first meetings” I could recall.

In her book “The Friendships of Women”, Dee Brestin speaks several times about what she calls ”greeting scenes”:

“By greeting scenes, I mean the sensitivity to realize, on meeting someone, that God may be involved….How sensitive are you to those you meet for the first time? Do you ask, when you meet them, whether it could be that God has a reason for bringing this person across your path?” (Friendships, p. 160).

I remember going through this particular book in a bible study group, and my dear friend Catherine being able to recount the exact time and place of our first meeting. She has now passed away, and her sensitivity to those “greeting scenes” is one of many pearls of wisdom which I gleaned from our friendship. It caused me to reflect on some other “greeting scenes” I had experienced, and I found that the ones I recalled most clearly, which left the greatest impact, often led to the deepest friendships. There was the woman in the yellow rain slicker who was rocking in her chair, unable to look anyone in the eye or really speak who, 29 years later, is one of my closest confidants. When a mutual friend suggested we take her for coffee, my response was a less than compassionate “Why would we do that?” Fortunately, my wiser, more compassionate, friend was more sensitive to God’s leading than I was.

A few years ago we returned to the Northeast, after spending 6 years living “out west”. I came back into a whirlwind of family circumstances which took a lot of my attention, and making new friends wasn’t really on my radar. I do recall, however, meeting a woman at church for the first time. She had moved to the area in my absence, and had established herself firmly in some of the ministries at church. My “first impression” of her was that she was attractive, friendly, had a sweet southern accent, liked shopping and Starbucks, and I wanted her to like me. Like an awkward schoolgirl, I wanted to be her friend. We have since become friends, not at all in the way I had planned, and I have no idea if she has any recollection of our first meeting. We have never gone shopping or to Starbucks together, and yet it has become clear that God had a reason for our paths to cross.

Often times, however, those paths seem to cross only for a brief time. Sometimes we don’t understand why certain friendships end like they do, or when they do. Some come to a natural or anticipated end due to a move or job change; others may end with a clear parting of the ways because of a disagreement that can’t be reconciled. But more often than not they just fade away slowly, without any apparent cause, and before we even realize it. In those instances when a move or other major change is affecting the dynamics of a friendship, Brestin says it is just as important to pay attention to “parting scenes” as it is to “greeting scenes”.

I think about some of the significant “parting scenes” in my life-mostly times when, as an adult, I have made a major move from one part of the country to another. There were parting gifts- a handmade quilt signed by all the ladies in my Bible study group, a box of handmade chocolates to make the drive more bearable; there was friendship shown in an unusual yet meaningful way- the friend who spent a day cleaning my oven, the one who kept my home vacuumed for real estate showings; there were hugs and tears and promises to stay close. I would venture to say they were done well, and there have been similar scenes which I have helped script for departing friends. I was blessed to be a part of one of those emotional send-offs just last week. But what about those less dramatic “parting scenes”?

There is a scene from the movie Boys on the Side that breaks my heart every time I see it. The two characters aren’t talking about friendship, but I think the principle is the same:

Jane: Do you miss it?
Robin: What?
Jane: Sex.
Robin: Yeah, I do… You know what’s weird? You never know the last time you sleep with somebody it’s the last time. You’re thinking: “Oh, we got problems, we got work to do,” you know, but you never think… and then you break up and a month later you look back and you go: “Oh, that was it.” That Tuesday or Friday or whenever, and you wished you paid attention because it was the last time… Well.

Isn’t it that way with those friendships that kind of just fade away? You don’t even realize they’ve ended because you’re not really paying attention. And then you find yourself lonely, wishing for someone to go shopping with or to sit at Starbucks with for just an hour. And you wonder what’s wrong with you that you don’t have friends.

What is it that instills in us that desire to be liked, to be friends with certain people that we still, even as “seasoned” adults, perceive as the “popular kids”? It is one thing to recognize the desire placed in each one of us for friendship. That is, I really believe, placed there by God, and demonstrated over and over again in scripture. We are told to love one another, to encourage one another and build one another up; to admonish one another, but with gentleness; to think of others better than ourselves. We are clearly made to live in fellowship, not in isolation.

But what is it in us that takes that natural, God-instilled desire for fellowship and perverts it to one extreme or the other: Either we convince ourselves there is something terribly wrong with us for not having those friendships that movies are made of, or we protect ourselves from hurt and abandonment by proudly taking on a “lone wolf” persona, neither of which achieve that “one another” mindset God intended for us.

As I move through what is likely the final third of my life here on earth, I have predictably become more reflective about time well-spent and time wasted. I’m not sure what it is that stirs up that desperate feeling of loneliness from time to time, or what makes me have those days when I choose not to answer the phone or leave the house. But I do know that is not the best use of the time I have been so graciously given.

So I will try to be more intentional about both those “greeting scenes” and “parting scenes”, as well as those moments in between, those cups of coffee at my dining room table; I will ask myself “what is God’s purpose for bringing this person across my path today”, rather than questioning whether there is a reason or seeing it as a nuisance, an interruption to my plans; I will pay attention to those friendships that seem to be slipping away, and make every effort not to be the one guilty of abandoning them. I will ask God “to teach me to number my days, so I may gain a heart of wisdom” (Ps. 90:12). I will see it as a true blessing when a friend sends me an urgent Facebook message asking me to pray about something, or sends me a text after 36 years. Perhaps I will come to really believe that it’s not about me, but about being “bound together in peace”, about loving one another as we have been loved by God, about being so filled with that spiritual joy which is promised (John 15:11) that the joy will overflow.