As I've mentioned before, I'm blessed with an incredible circle of friends. They're not the bum-around-when-it's-convenient-just-to-edge-away-the-boredom kind of friends. Those are a dime a dozen. Mine are the catch-you-when-you're-falling, revel-in-your-triumphs, love-you-even-when-it's hard kind of friends. We numb each other's heartaches with Dairy Queen blizzards. We make each other big pots of coffee and eggs when life has scrambled our brains. We celebrate even each other's smallest victories; we feed each other's dreams. Many days they're the only screws that keep my head from spontaneously catapulting itself off my shoulders in protest of this madness called college that I thrust upon it daily. They are my rock, and I love them.
Every once in a great long while, however, someone will come along whose influence reaches far beyond satisfying those everyday emotional hungers. Naturally the more exasperating, infuriating, and impertinent the person, the more enthralling, refreshing, and precious the impact. They're the ones that aren't afraid to tell us when we're boring or stupid or selfish or rude or any other number of things. They care far more about our fulfillment than they do our comfort, and they wrench us from our cozy bubbles and boxes and dare us to live a better life. We usually stick a toe out just to appease, then scramble back to our snug little ways. But they lovingly, painstakingly urge us farther each time, inch by inch. Usually we're relieved when they finally give in, leaving us to snuggle in our secure little pocket. We nestle down deep with a thankful sigh, happy the struggle's over.
But unbeknownst to us (and them), that loved one's dropped a tiny seed of discontent deep in the belly of our beings. Before we know what's happened we find ourselves gladly leaping outside our bubble, seizing opportunities with a boldness not our own. They've infected our very being, leaving us with a crucial, beautiful, life-changing piece of themselves. Long after they're gone, we can see their fingerprints on every day we live.
I like the idea of adding pictures to my posts, so I Googled "fingerprints on my life" just to see what popped up. There were a lot of photos of Robert Pattinson. That made me a little sick. Then there were a lot of pictures of people with their loved ones. That made me smile.
A couple's engagement photo.
A group of friends sporting big grins and goofy Halloween costumes.
A brother and sister playing together in a sandbox.
A beaming bride surrounded by her best friends.
A man in his cap and gown, diploma in hand, with his proud children hanging off his shoulders.
A precious baby girl with a big smile and a pink bow in her hair. (Obviously my fav)
As I perused the happy faces, I found myself wondering if any strangers had softened this way after stumbling across a picture of my loved ones and me. Could they see a glimmer of selfless love in our eyes? Did our iron-clad friendship bring them hope, too?
As I scrolled a bit lower, this little guy caught my eye:
And I smiled again. :)
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