Her mom crossed over last week, so I stood by my best friend
at the graveside yesterday.
We first met in college, but only met. Our connection
began in early marriage when we neither one had two thin dimes to rub together,
but plenty of time to talk deeply and plenty of kids to raise.
Our first borns are two weeks apart, our middles are 8
months, our babies… four days. We did things together.
In fact, we sort of grew up together. We discovered that together was
easier than alone, most of the time. We served together in two
different churches as preschool and children’s ministers (her kingdom vision
always amazed me) and how energizing was it to bounce ideas off of each other until they were created and perfected! We laughed together until our sides split, cried together
when life sucked, went antiquing together to drown our sorrows. We helped set up and tear down some of the kids’ weddings together. We prayed together. Things like that. Together.
There are often best friends in different seasons of life,
but occasionally one lingers…and how precious is this irreplaceable
friendship. How sweet the joy that rises between us, even at a graveside.
You are forever a part of all that I am. The colors of
my tapestry are deeper and richer from the creativity and strength woven into
it by walking through this life together. I love you, Cyn.
