“Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”
– Albert Camus
We are meant to live in companionship with others. Nothing brings that truth to light more clearly than when we lose someone important to us, whether through death or the parting of ways.
After the initial shock and ensuing chaos in the days following my mother’s passing began to subside, my life took a serious turn into darkness. Not only was I dealing with the grief over losing my mother, I also had to come to terms with the ending of another relationship, and the loneliness that comes with losses such as these. At times, it felt as though my light had been permanently extinguished – the darkness reigned so heavily inside me I nearly suffocated from it weight. When life takes a downturn, it often seems like troubles just don’t stop coming and I certainly met with a few of them. In exasperation, I asked God if He was there and just what was He trying to prove?
Then came the flickers. Flickers of light began to reveal themselves to me, in moments when hope seemed impossible.
While I hate to think that God dabbles on Facebook, one Sunday morning a post appeared that hit me square between the eyes, it even used Snoopy as the messenger – my lifetime friend and companion. Charlie Brown thoughtfully tells Snoopy that “someday we will all die” and Snoopy replies “True but on all the other days we will not.”
As I headed out for my Sunday morning run I reflected on Snoopy’s message. I fought the heavy loneliness in my heart as I continued with my own thoughts, “And those who haven’t died are left to wander in the world just a little more alone by those who have gone before us.” That heart aching feeling of being alone had hung on my spirit for weeks and I had not been able to break free from it – despite my unwavering faith. Faith is great but it is sometimes quite the battle when pitted against the stark realities of life. But Snoopy was telling me to snap out of it – to get out and start living again.
As if on cue, my pastor’s sermon that morning reminded me that though I may feel alone, the Holy Spirit abides with me and in Him I can find peace. I so desperately wanted that! He reminded us that when two or three are gathered in His name, that is where we will find God. We will find the Holy Spirit alive in the lives of those around us. He works through the hands and hearts of those we walk among. As one who likes to believe that I can do this life thing on my own – I was starting to come to the humbling realization that no, I could not. And believe it or not, I am not expected to and neither are you!
Despite hearing the words, I still battled a bit of shame perhaps? That I really needed to talk to someone- and yet I didn’t want to burden anyone with my issues. And yet people were there for me. I had seen them in action and had proof for my psyche in the numerous thank you’s I had written. I had collected quite a list of people whose kindnesses eased the pain of my mother’s death and frankly the numbers were daunting.
As I pondered the goodness of others the heaviness of sorrow began to lift. In turn, I realized how important it is to reach out to others when they are facing sorrow or are in pain. I am eternally grateful for those who took a small amount of time to reach out to me – as their seemingly small (to them) gesture brought glimmers of light into my life again.
I re-read the sympathy cards and marveled at how wonderful the written word is at touching our hearts. Even those that said they didn’t know what to say spoke volumes as they shared a story about my Mom.
Getting back into the daily rigors of life illuminated the good things surrounding me and I found myself appreciating if not standing in awe of even the simplest things – a sunrise, a friendly smile at the post office, a great song on the radio, a turtle following my path. People I thought of as just acquaintances revealed themselves as bearers of hope with a phone call, a coffee shared together, an unexpected hug.
I realized that although I surround myself with people by singing in multiple choirs, attending church functions, volunteering for the symphonies and venturing into the mountains with like-minded mountain goats, I wasn’t very good at letting people into my life – allowing myself to be vulnerable. There were plenty of people out there that wanted into my life – if only I would let them in.
Then the flicker flamed.
On a particular difficult evening, I found myself walking with tears being my steady companion. I had a question for a fellow choir member and decided to send her a text message. By accident I hit the call button and to my horror the phone began to ring and she answered it! I was caught live in a moment of despair. I couldn’t hang up on her so I gulped and actually talked to her… apologizing for interrupting her evening. I was astounded when she replied that no I wasn’t interrupting her. Actually, she was dealing with severe pain of her own and really needed to talk to someone too.
90- some minutes later we were both laughing… a huge weight had been lifted from both of our spirits. I thanked her for sharing her time with me and she thanked me for helping her get through a rough evening and she actually felt like getting up and taking a walk! We had borne each other’s burdens for a while and my goodness it felt good to rest! Rest in the caring arms of someone else. We both felt so much better having opened up to each other.
“Friendship improves happiness, and abates misery, by doubling our joys, and dividing our grief.”
-Joseph Addison
Doctors realize this too. Numerous studies have been done over the last few decades that show social support and good health are connected. One study of cancer patients showed that those who had a good network of social support had much lower levels of a protein linked to more aggressive cancers which made their chemotherapy treatments more effective. Other cancer patient studies show that those with a good support group live longer and feel less pain than those lacking a social network. The Mayo Clinic identifies maintaining friendships as a key component of wellness. Friendships increase your sense of belonging and purpose; boost your happiness and reduce your stress; improve your self-confidence and self-worth; help you cope with traumas, such as divorce, serious illness, job loss or the death of a loved one; and provide encouragement to change or avoid unhealthy lifestyle habits.
Making friends and maintaining those friendships is not always easy. It requires work and sacrifice from both parties but the payoffs are huge.
I know that by leaning on others during the past few weeks I have regained my strength. I know that by helping others carry their burdens, my own seem lighter. My world seems less small and I feel a greater sense of responsibility to live well and help others do the same.
I won’t say that darkness has been completely obliterated from my life by a bonfire of buddies, but those buddies have become flickers of brilliant light when I am having a hard time finding my way. I feel less alone, even on days spent on my own and I feel much more alive when I have been able share a friend’s burden.
Yes, we are meant to be in companionship with others. If you need a spark, a flicker, or a flame in your life, shine the light of friendship into someone else’s darkness and you just might find yourself dancing in the light again.
Let your light so shine.
Time waits for no one. Indeed, nothing brings that message home more than the marking of another birthday or if you have been “on” Facebook for any length of time, receiving a “Because We Care” photo flashback of your life a year or longer ago. I was recently treated to a photo of me standing between my healthy Mom and Dad beaming happiness from the steps of our front porch in Billings, five years ago. Sometimes it feels like you are just slogging through your days, like nothing ever changes and weeks creep by then POOF! five years have passed and life isn’t even remotely the same.
I turn another year older today and find myself once again scratching my head in wonder at where the time went. For the last few months, my life has been full of what a positive spin-meister would call “learning – opportunities.” I, on the other hand would prefer to think I have garnered enough wisdom for the time being, thank you very much! Nonetheless, as I have made my way through these “learning- opportunities” I have acquired an unsettling sense of urgency to go to the head of the class in realizing some sort of significance or purpose for my life.
As someone who is accustomed to the flat prairies of Eastern Montana and relatively new to mountain living, I was surprised to find in wilderness hiking and mountain climbing, a passion that has eclipsed any of my previous past-time pursuits. Consequently, I have started to anticipate and plan my upcoming alpine adventures once the sun comes out and the snow begins to recede. While I have enjoyed a few epic sojourns on snow shoes, this dreary winter has started to lay claim on my once buoyant, sun-fed, summit-high spirits.
I find that in the wilds, the only boundary lines I face are the physical ones. I conquer the physical boundaries I encounter on my weekend escapades to the mountains far more adeptly than the invisible ones that dwell within me. I remember the first time I visited Glacier a little over 3 years ago. I was timid in my steps. I stayed firmly planted n the middle of the Avalanche Lake Trail, I shuddered at the height of the Hidden Lake Overlook, and I clung to the walls of the Highline Trail, afraid to look down for fear that my less than graceful tendency to trip would send me plummeting to my certain death.
With each physical boundary that I once flinched at crossing conquered, the invisible boundaries that confine my life and seemed insurmountable, dissipate in their strength and formidability.
My first piece and one of the most important pieces of mountain climbing equipment is a good pair of boots. I have worn through the soles of my first pair and moved on to a sturdier more rugged pair of Salomons. Hiking boots are your foundation, without them, you risk slipping on wet rock, bruised and blistered feet, twisted ankles, and if you are like me, tripping and falling at the most inopportune times. My first pair of hiking boots left me wanting…. Their soles became very slippery if they got wet, and while slipper like in comfort, they did not provide the support I needed for meandering 20+ miles in a day.
poles. I used to eschew them as inconvenient hindrances to the free movement of my arms; an unnecessary weight and a crutch for the clumsy. That was until I started climbing 10K foot peaks and descending scree slopes that grabbed and tore at my ankles and shins. Trekking poles give us much needed balance when navigating across rocks in a running stream. They take the load off our knees on steep descents and they give us stability when scrambling through boulder fields. In essence, they are our friends- not an inconvenient weight on the journey.
The back pack you carry with you as you climb the mountains of life contains all the life lessons you have learned along the way, your experiences – both good and bad, and the wisdom you have acquired from your family and friends. Some refer to this carry all as “baggage” in a negative sense. I look at this “baggage” as a collection of tools I have gathered throughout life, experiences in the past that have prepared me for the challenges I am facing now – just as these challenges are preparing me for the next life adventure. When I look at this sometimes heavy baggage from that perspective, I will gladly carry it upon my back and take comfort in knowing that in it I have the tools necessary to climb and conquer the mountains of life.
“I know not the way God leads me, but well do I know my Guide.” 
“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” Psalm 139:23-24 (NIV)
In truth, what I savor most are memories of sitting in the quiet by the fire with just the Christmas tree lights on after Christmas Eve services; the Life Saver Sweet Story book that Santa placed in my stocking every year along with an apple, an orange, and a note telling me what a good girl I had been and how proud he was of my hard work in school; the old fashioned cinnamon striped ribbon candy and Brach’s Royal candies that sparkled in the candy dish; lighting the angel chime can
dles before every dinner; and my delight in putting out the Nativity scene on top of the console stereo while singing along with Arthur Fiedler’s Boston Pops Christmas records.
Let Your Light So Shine 