My silence is reaching its end. I miss blogging. I miss many things, actually.

It isn't that I've run dry on thought. On the contrary, I continue to baffle myself over this phenomenon called Life. It is so bittersweet. And I embrace it, even in times when it seems there is nothing to live for. But of the pleasures that make this life worth living, Friendship is for me the greatest.

I am hardly making reference to any type of friendship. But I am interested in those friendships that are cultivated and refined over time, those that are strong in their intimate familiarity and delicate in their rarity. There is only room for a few. After all, only a few would continue being my friend if they knew me intimately. Because if anyone can be despicible, cold, insecure, bruised, it is me; I am so horribly imperfect. I see God's hand in my greatest friendships. These are the friends that bring me to tears of humility and relief for loving one as flawed as myself.

I would give anything, risk anything, for this type of friendship.