For richer or for poorer

by theodotdoron

Yes, I know, I know, I do not want to marry the person I am going to be friends with. Yet I have had my share of people betraying me over the years, and, quite frankly, a friend who disappears at the first sign of conflict is no friend at all.

Some years ago I had come to the end of the road in regards to friends. It is a curious thing, being close to people. Due to my story I had come in contact with many people over the eyars and I somewhat had reached the point of not wanting any more.

Plus, the no-bullsh*t aspect of my personality always allowed for a certain amount of sincerity when it came to having friends. So we were friends, sharing stuff. Yes, and, moving yet again, I would loose touch with them, and had just in general reached that point of wanting no friends.

I know I walked into church almost ten years ago with the thought stuck in my head, “I am not here to make any friends”, and, though it was a terribly friendly church, no one approached me for the first few months.

After a while I somehow met someone who became somewhat of a friend. She would take interest in my well being and was incredibly encouraging. This meant the world to me. Soon we were facing the situation that we actually went to another country to help start a church there, which was ace.

Yes, indeed, I am rambling, but this link got me started on talking about friends. As there were only a few people in a fairly new city, we deliberated the idea of moving into a flat share. I told her back then, “I can’t handle yet another bad friendship, so, either warts and all, or not at all”, and she agreed on just that condition.

It was only one year later that things started turning really sour. It was the most horrid and hurtful thing that unfolded for the next six month. The other girl in the flat share began turning against me and other people too I noticed began to shun me.

The last day of us living together she accused me of having stolen some cash, even though I merely hid it since she had forgotten to close the door properly. I had left the house and had hid the cash under a book by the entrance.

As I returned I saw her stone cold sitting outside in the van. Running after me, supposedly wanting to catch me in the act, she stood, wanting to see what I would do next. The whole idea seemed so strange to me and it took me a while to realize that she in fact accused me of having taken the money.

It was such a betrayal. Without a word she just stood there, piercing me with her eyes and I was startled, noticing that she supposedly really imagined that I had taken the money from her. I lifted the book, the money appeared and she ripped it off the shelf and ran out, fuming.

Dear Lord, what gave her the right to fume? She had just accused me of stealing from her. Afterwards I would see her living it up in her new place with her new BF, and it killed me. As we continued having church, I would inevitably run into her over and over again.

It nearly killed me, honestly. Her reason for moving out was spelled out in the following way. “You make me sick”, where the words she felt inclined to tell me. Now, years after, I never once heard her utter even the slightest form of apology.

It took me years and years to recover, and, only some days ago literally, I realized that the world is not fair, that bad things do happen and a belief in God will not stop them from taking place. After all, both her and I were believers, trusting an almighty God.

My first BF about 25 years ago accused me of causing her anorexia. She went from bestie to not even answering my phone calls. In between no one knew where she was and if she indeed was dead, as she had escaped from the ambulance car.

I highly doubt at 12 years of age I really was to be blamed for her illness, especially since we had only known each other for a good two years. She never once apologized for her behaviour, either. Instead, she is an incredibly successful business woman.

These two things do make me wonder where justice is in this world. I know, they are relatively small in comparison to real injustices, yet they hit close to home, so, how can this happen without there being justice?

The other girl, too, gets to do exactly what she always wanted to do, she is being recognized in church as an important member, regularly receiving praise and mention for her outstanding character.

I really wonder how this can be, but, after many years of deliberating it I have come to a conclusion: The world has sufficient things that will cause me to question the goodness of God. I always wondered about the following:

What does the thieve come to steal? And I finally know: not things, not friends, not reputation or dreams or even people. No, faith. Since faith is of more value than Gold. In every situation life throws at me, the attempt is at destroying my faith in God.

It looks to me as though He allowed this to happen and in turn even rewards her for her bad behaviour. In reality though, it is my choice to allow this, comparatively minute thing, to destroy the most precious thing I hold: My faith in God.

So, in ending I can say, I guess there is One who says to me “For richer or for poorer” and that is more precious than Gold and of more value than five million friends saying this in unison. Ok, rant over, back to work.