Posts like this one are touchy. I want to tell this story because it has taken a beautiful turn, yet I don’t want to hurt anyone by telling it in the wrong way. I will try my hardest to put it in the positive light it deserves.
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Several years ago I was heavily involved in an organization as a volunteer. I put in long hours, had great responsibilities, and loved the people I was involved with each day. Over time that relationship quit “doing it” for me. I became disenchanted with things, was sure I knew a better path, and eventually wound up leaving.
I did not take that step lightly. I had dear friends within those walls. People whom I considered brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers. I prayed for a very long time. I sought guidance from people I respected. I listened to what I was sure God was telling me to do in order to regain my joy with life.
My departure was orderly. I turned over all of my materials, showed the leader of the group where everything was, prepared a pass-down briefing, and quietly said goodbye all in the space of a single day. I thought I’d done things the right way.
It turns out that something I had done/not done caused a resentment to smolder. It burst into flame some time later. I was crushed: I could not figure out what I’d done wrong.
Over all the time since I left, I’ve continued to volunteer with two associated groups in the same building. This brought me into contact with my old group on a semi-regular basis. It was almost as cold a relationship as the weather in Minnesota.
One evening, as I got out of my car, the wind almost knocked me over. I finished my work with one group and got ready to leave the building. I’d done some good work, accomplished a lot of what was needed and helped them move toward their goals. They’re a good bunch, they don’t need me, but they appreciate the help and experience. It was fulfilling.
An old friend was between me and the door. We gave each other a hug and chatted for a moment. As I looked up one of the people whom I had been estranged from was walking by on the way to their office. I spoke up and offered some words of comfort for a sick relative of theirs. I extended that olive branch at the risk of a rebuke. Instead, “We all need that prayer. Thank you.” A kind response. A good response. A smile.
My friend then informed me that the person we were speaking of was in the next room. God, who is merciful and great, moved me across the room to talk to a person I had given up hope of ever talking to again. I got down on my knees (she was seated) so that we would be at eye level and as I knelt she said, “I just asked God to bring you to me yesterday. I want to apologize.”
If that moment hadn’t happened to me, I’d suspect it as bad writing in a poorly written novel. There, next to the Christmas tree we traded apologies, talked about life and illness, and smiled at each other for the first time in years. It felt good. It was the right thing to do. I gained back a friend by listening to God.
In the next few moments I had a chance to make amends with another person. All I could say was that I was glad we were healing and letting the enmity go. I had regained two people who mean a very great deal to me. I was blessed.
As I left, I was walking on a cushion of joy. God had healed broken hearts, including mine. I had carried around that hurt for way too long. I was released from yet another bond of that liar, Satan. In the space of fifteen minutes I had gained back a large part of my life that I had assumed was lost forever.
Today, if you’re up to it, I’d like you to search your heart for a missing piece. Look for that broken bit that you can heal by stepping out in faith. I’m not asking you to walk into a buzz-saw, or risk your physical well-being. But pray about fixing a broken friendship. Look at the possibility of finding peace with an estranged friend.
Most of all, trust God when he tells you to say a kind word to a person in need.
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