Holy Week

It's Holy Week and now is the time for prayer. As I walk this path, keeping my eye on my own cross, I realize how fickle we humans can be.

I am faced with the supreme challenge of loving a friend whom I have worked so hard to sever the ties with. This friend was my drinking buddy, my hiking buddy, my working buddy. She even landed me my job, which is my passion. But things got toxic. Her husband is a mirror of me and my former self. It was just nine months ago to the day that he hit what looked like the bottom. It scared me so much that I started blubbering to my dad that I was not far behind. I could see myself in him. So I quit. He has since hit other depths and tonight is yet another. I know this because his daughter is my daughter's best friend. She has come to spend the night. I don't ask what has happened because I know. It is a beautiful spring night and the heart takes flight with a lovely glass of chardonnay on these nights. The heart soars to the heavens after a bottle. So now I dig for love for a friend that is suffering because of this substance which is supposed to be nectar of God. Why does this stuff have to exist?

This so called nectar is my cross. So here is the path that I must follow. I must realize that no matter how tantalizing that glass of wine is, I must not turn away from the cross. I must keep walking down that path toward a different kind of flight. The flight my heart takes when my child looks to me and says, "Thanks mom." The heavenly laughter from two children who are growing into fine young adults. The blessing of being able to be someone else's rock. These are the flights I must keep my eye on.

Also, I must try to love the friend that had been my best friend for nearly 25 years. I have to look past all the annoyances and find compassion in my heart for this woman who struggles for the same love as me.