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A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out. Walter Winchell It would seem to me that the term friend has become diluted over the years, in meaning, like a lot of other things I suppose. The last couple of weeks I have been wrestling with the values of friendship. When I was growing up there was a time of my my life that I was placed under my Grandmothers care for a few years. One time in relating something that had happened, I had mentioned someone was my friend. My Grandmother started asking me questions, none of which I could really answer, she then informed me that friends knew friends very well, people who knew each other in passing were acquaintances . Friend was a term reserved for one who stood by you through thick and thin, who was prepared to tell you the truth, and who cared about you regardless of that truth, and if you were a real friend you applied the same principles in return. A couple of weeks ago I heard that an old friend of mine had died...

I had a dream last night. I dreamt that everything I cherish was stripped away from me, almost like Job, in the old testament. In the midst of this despair and confusion a man stood before me, bare footed long hair and a long beard, clothed in tattered rags. His eyes were piercing looking straight into me as he said " I want you to come with me. I want you to meet God." I was scared yet I followed him. Why was I scared? I believe God to be kind, loving merciful and compassionate. Not harsh judgemental or unforgiving. So why was I scared? Was I scared because I was guilty? How often has guilt stood in my way of wanting to meet with God? As the Psalmist wrote, "you know my every thought." God has promised if I confess he will forgive, maybe I need to forgive myself. The beggar took me inside me, to look at myself as I really am; not giving God the glory and credit for all the things that go well in my life; the sometimes seeming unsurmountable obstacles that I overc...