Quirks and friends.

The past two days, all day long, Sam's worn his (pink) boots and winter coat.  Outside...and inside.  Trying to peel them off of his body, it's as if I'm amputating a limb.  

It's adorable, this obsession.

We're all a little weird, aren't we?  It's a miracle finding someone that not only tolerates our quirks, but appreciates them, laughs at them, and loves us, not just in spite of them, but because of them.

It's possible to be "friendly" with everyone, "friend" to many, but there's only a handful of people in life that are "needful."  Sure, you could survive without them, but having them in your life fills some need, like food and water for the body, but for the soul. 

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosopy, like art....  It has no survival value; rather, it is one of those things which give value to survival."  C.S. Lewis

Innately, we crave belonging.  There aren't many things better than feeling understood by someone else.  Life is too heavy.

I love this: 

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.  

-- Henri J.M. Nouwen

Yes.