"Is there a dearer name than friend?" asked Abigail Adams.
I love that, but another question pecks at the door of my mind there a harder name than friend?
Maybe I've just always been shy. Maybe I have always been afraid. Maybe I learned to be afraid. Maybe both. Trusting is not easy for me. True, utter friendship runs deep for me.
But I write and I find courage in Him and He sends the people who change me for the best and hold me in the worst. These people:
The one who pens and shares soul by hitting "sent". The one who refuses to let me hide. The ones who make me laugh--at myself, usually, which is needed. The one who spoke first, who walks to my house in winter. The one whose feet were not made for marching, but whose heart was made for encouraging. The one who is who she is, who loves her daughter and loves people. The one who is nothing like yet so much the same as me. The one who shared pain and honesty. The one who went to Jamaica with me. The one who told me I was beautiful. The one who makes scones and tea with me while watching Sherlock. And the ones whom I love.
The One who
He knows what I need, and safe isn't really safe. Love isn't safe and neither is He and neither are they. Today I am grateful for friends.