My best friend is not a lot like me. She’s the oldest in her family; I’m the baby in mine. She always wanted kids; I never even liked baby-sitting. She is a focused, career-oriented woman; I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up. She doesn’t like Shakespeare; I think he was a genius. You would probably never think we’d be able to be friends, but we are.

Something more powerful than both of us brought us to work at the same place many years ago and the rest, as they say, is history. We’ve laughed and cried together, over men and family and love and loss. We’ve rejoiced at each other’s weddings and celebrated new life when her children were born.

Most importantly, we’ve been there for each other. As I struggled through the early stages of recovery from my addictions, she took my phone calls, listened to me whine about how hard it was, and has accepted each time of change that has consumed my path along the way. When her first pregnancy was lost (even though I had no idea what to say), I was there to hold her while she cried. And, when her dad died, I bought books on grieving that she could read to her five-year-old son.

It isn’t one thing, but many things, that have brought us closer together over the years. It doesn’t matter that we don’t agree on everything or connect every single day. What matters is that we have each other – whenever we need – to talk, to cry, to laugh our butts off. If nothing else happens today, that is success.

TODAY: I will remember that every friend I have – whether near or far – is a blessing.

*In honor of my BFF’s birthday today, I reprint the April 4th entry from my daily devotional book, Dewdrops: Morning Meditations to Cultivate Faith, Love & Service (which, of course, you can find on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Dewdrops-Jessica-L-Morris/dp/0991096282)