On Being Saved

A fellow blogger recently asked us to write our own little version of her post, in which she talks about what is saving her life right now.  You know what I mean...sometimes it's a book that you read over and over again because, somehow, it just speaks to you.  Sometimes, it's a new flavor of coffee creamer that gets you up in the morning just because you're looking forward to that first  hot, sweet cup.  I don't know, it could anything....cute-butt jeans or comfortable shoes, a new friend at work or old episodes of Gilmore Girls, your new grandchild or a weekly massage.  Whatever it is, it's yours, and it makes you feel happy and comforted no matter what else is going on in your world.

What's saving me right now?  That's easy.  It's my best friend, C. 

I have always wanted a best friend...since I was four years old and lived down the street from Tricia, who pouted and stomped off every time we wouldn't play what she wanted to play and whose little brother Darryl bit me and broke the skin at least once a month.  I've been through years of calling different people my best friend....J. in middle school and A. in college.  M. in my first years of marriage and then later H. and J., both who betrayed the friendship due to their own broken-ness and in the process, broke my heart.  And then, for a while, I gave up.  I decided I didn't need a girlfriend.  I would stick to my husband and my kids and I would keep friends at a distance.

Then I met C.  Well, I actually stalked her, if you want to know the truth.  I saw something in her that I knew would make us friends.  It was a God thing, really.  I was supposed to meet her.  So we got together one day, and then we got close, and now I know what a best friend really is.  It's having someone that I can sit around with all day and do nothing, and have the best time of my life.  It's having someone I can call at midnight when there's something on my mind and she'll listen to me whine until the wee hours of the morning.  With C., I can complain about my husband or my kids and she'll get it that I'm just having a bad day.  I can try on the dress or the jeans and she'll tell me that they make my butt look big, and I don't get insulted.  She can screw up, and I can tell her, and she doesn't get mad.  She knows that I don't clean and I know that she doesn't cook, and we still love each other. 

Here's the deal with best friends.  They make you feel better about who you are, because you think they're so great, and they're hanging out with you!  And someone who you can tell all your problems and all your flaws and all the ugly parts of you to, and they love you anyway?  Well, that's pretty life-saving, isn't it?