In the wee hours of this morning, I heard a discussion on the radio about a new book which apparently recommends you don’t marry your best friend. I don’t remember the name of the book and since I disagree with its basic premise I didn’t do a lot of research to find it. If you are interested, you know all about google.
I didn’t marry my best friend. When I got married in 1970, I wasn’t looking for a best friend, I was looking for a hot little number and that’s what I got. It’s a blessing that she turned out to be a faithful wife, wonderful mom and grandmother and, yes, eventually a perfect best friend. If after 47 years of marriage, your spouse isn’t your best friend you are doing friendship wrong. I don’t care what any book says.
I will caution this way. Your spouse shouldn’t be your only friend. We lay way too much on our spouses, especially the good ones. There should be others that can share our emotional burdens and our whining and complaining. Most of us are too much for any one best friend to handle. Once more chances are one of us will outlive the other. It would be great if there are persons out around who, though may never replace our best friend, will be around to help us through the loss of that best friend. Think about it. If your best friend went to be with Jesus today, who would you have to help you through
Further chances are one of us will outlive the other. Simultaneous death of life-long loves is romantic, but very rare. It would be great if there are persons who, though they will never replace our best friend, will be around to help us through the loss of that best friend. Think about it. If your best friend went to be with Jesus today, who would you have to help you through?
Call them your second best friend or your best-friend-in-waiting or your mourner-in-chief. I’m not sure I have one. Maybe that book served its purpose; it’s given me something important to think about. It’s just not fair to pray that I die first. Who would do that to a best friend or a hot little number?