I walked into the brick building in the industrial park, unsure if I even had the right place. As a warm breeze swept through the wisps of Jude’s blond hair, carrying with it hope and relief, I breathed in. We have been putting life on hold in so many ways since Jude was born. I suppose that’s what happens when a child – especially your first – comes along. But something in the air seemed about to change.

I cradled Jude’s chunky butt in one arm and gripped a purple ceramic pot with an orchid in the other hand. I was met with a cool “hello” from the receptionist as the vertical blinds on the door clanked behind me.

“Is Tammy in today?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, get her when I take this back,” the receptionist said, picking up her grocery bag of lunch.

A minute later, when my friend came around the corner, we both got tears in our eyes and couldn’t hug fast enough. You see, we haven’t seen each other for months. Almost a year to be exact.

As we stood in the small and dimly lit lobby, we caught up on each others’ lives as fast as we could. We have tried several times to get together, but since last summer, she and her husband have learned he has a chronic disease. She has given up hobbies and activities and lunches out with friends to keep her family functioning.

And, while Jude is the greatest blessing of my life, caring for him completely alone with only Jason’s super-dad help has forced me to also give up many things to keep my own family functioning.

As Tammy held Jude and talked sweetly to him, it hit me. There we were. Two women. Dear friends. Missing the other. Wanting to be better connected, a part of one another’s story again. But we were also two wives. Two moms. And we had families to take care of. She had to stand by her husband. His sickness had consumed so much of her time and energy as she fought against disease with him. And I’ve had Jude, tending to his needs alone the large majority of the time. We’ve been fighting for wholeness. For health. For love.

So there we were, our friendship having weathered its most intense storm. Not a fight. Not a cross-country move. But just the life stuff, the hard places where we had to make a choice between seeing each other or minding our marriages. Between getting together for a glass of wine or being there when our child woke up multiple times between the hours of 7:00 and 10:00 p.m. And, as impossible as it sounds, in this season we could not have both. It really has been a choice without compromise.

“I forgot my nephew’s birthday. I didn’t send Christmas cards. I’m not teaching Sunday School anymore. I can’t even remember the last time we went to church,” she told me.

“Oh, girl, don’t even get me started,” I said, laughing and looking at Jude.

“I really would love to get together soon,” Tammy said as she handed Jude back to me and picked up the orchid I’d brought for her.

I got tears in my eyes because I wanted to see my friend again, too. “You just take care of your family. We’ll get together.”

And with that, we said goodbye while Jude did his best to wave. As I drove away, I realized that friends are precious. Sometimes you wish your friends were your family. Sometimes our friends are even closer than family. But when it comes down to it, we have to take care of our families first. Those precious few lives entrusted to us to love and bless.

Sometimes we have to put life as we know it on hold. And then we get back to life. Eventually. The air changes. It’s a season thing. Just knowing I have a friend who understands that was enough.