Drifting

Two of my good friends recently lost their young firstborn son to a sickness that claimed his life rather suddenly. As I've tried to process and experience in small ways what they must be feeling as parents, I've realized that loss is everywhere. The pain that's left when we lose someone close to us is so hard to get past, and, as I can thankfully only imagine, is so intense that we can barely breathe.

As I am deeply sad for my close friends' loss, I admit that I in no way have experienced that kind of loss. I've never had to say goodbye to a close family member, and, being a dad, I cannot even think about what it would be like to lose Audrey or Finley without tearing up (either literally or symbolically).

But, there is another kind of pain that most people do know. We've all lost someone that we were once close to either to death, moving, betrayal, sickness, or just simply life. I've been fortunate enough to have only lost a few people in my life. Having lived a little bit and experienced a little bit about life, I've learned this...
  
"Often the people who are least likely to abandon you are the most likely to let you drift away."

I made up this quote a couple of years ago. Upon realizing that the man I thought would be my closest friend forever had no real idea of what was going on in my life for at least two years, I felt a different kind of loss then being left behind by someone. My pain, although nothing in comparison to my good friends', was real and poignant. I've bounced all over the place from bitterness to anger to hope to sadness to grief and forgiveness.

The funny thing about drifting is that you usually don't notice until substantial movement can be gauged based on where you once where before the "drift" took place. Imagine you're in the ocean playing for about twenty minutes on the waves just where they break into the shoreline. You hang out there for a little while then you look up to where your cooler and beach chair "should" be and they're not there. Upon further examination you notice that your stuff is about 100 yards up the beach. The tide has caused you to end in a different spot than you began. In relationships, if you're not careful, life will pull you apart. Some of this is normal and even healthy, but to not know that it's going to happen and then to have it happen can breed all kinds of confusion and pain upon the realization that things have changed.

In my relationship, this is exactly what happened. It wasn't until I looked up to "check" where we were in relation to where we started when I realized that I had "lost" someone. And...that sucked.

Often, God teaches me a lot about myself through other people. I'm sure He loves the moments when in my sinfulness, His grace penetrates my hardness and shines light on the part of me that is the same as the part of the person, situation, or institution that I'm so frustrated by.

The light shined through the darkness. It lit up my own propensity to allow others to drift. I'm a fierce lover. I'm a committed friend. And I'm extreme in most things I say and do. I've learned that people like me are most prone to just let others drift away. I've striven to set up specific habits in the relationships I value highly (my onesies) in order to battle against my tendency to drift.

My hope is in one who never leaves, who always perseveres, and who will never let me drift away without being right beside me. I think I can someday be that man. But until then, I will dare all the to get out of the boat and swim after the ones I love.