The fabric of our lives … is not cotton

I had decided that I had enough friends.

We were preparing to move to a small town in Ohio, for only a year mind you, and I was content that I didn’t need to make any new friends. I had great friends from college and from growing up and I was content.

But I guess I hadn’t planned that I would meet one of the most dear families I know, and they just happened to live on the other side of our duplex. So we spent the next year laughing, playing cards, loving on their baby and preparing for the new daughter to arrive. At the end of the year, and before the birth of their baby girl, we moved away as planned. That was 13 years ago. We are still quite close.

So then we moved to Nashville. I had just added a wonderful friend, I had wonderful new friends that I was moving nearer to and would get to spend more time with. Again, I was content.

When Case was diagnosed with MPS in 2009, I didn’t make the same mistake. I had wonderful friends. But this was quite a difficult thing to understand, and sometimes only those living it can relate.

So began my journey of having “MPS friends.”

But MPS friends soon evolved into friends. Period.

And I reflect on this only because recently I’ve gotten to spend more time with some wonderful ladies in our town. We’ve crossed paths only because we live in Spring Hill, have children, and like to get great deals by buying and selling online with other families in town.

I’ve never been an “online talker” but we spent about four hours with laugh out loud, gut-busting conversations the other night while waiting on and enduring a thunderstorm and tornado warnings. Some were in their “safe place” and some of us chose to watch the storm.

This is my fabric. It is woven with friends who all crossed each others’ paths for different reasons. Some are on the blue path, some the red, some the most colorful path you’ve seen, and some threads are tattered and frayed.

But they have created a tapestry, a fabric in my life that I cling to and cherish, for without them, my life would be a bland blanket of only the colors I had chosen, a few black, tan, red, and not much more.

Rejoice with those who rejoice; and mourn with those who mourn.

Romans 12:15. I am blessed enough to have friends who do just that.

I am also studying Job as of late, and while one can question the wisdom of Job’s friends later on, one cannot question their love for and dedication to Job:

Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.

Job 2:13. What a blessing to have friends who would sympathize with us so greatly!

So when you are weaving your life, weave purposefully, openly, and lovingly. And leave room for others to step in and weave themselves into your tapestry.

You’ll never imagine how beautiful it will become.