By Sarah D. Park

A few months ago, I experienced a conflict with a longtime friend, someone who I never doubted would always be a part of my life. We’ve had misunderstandings and disagreements before, but in this situation, for the first time, we could not talk our way through it. Instead, we took time apart from each other. For months, I walked around as if I had a hole in my body, my heart grasping at the empty space my friend had once occupied. I’d compulsively press upon the experience like a large discolored bruise, just to feel the ache again, confounded by a persisting “How could we get here?” Something so sure had shattered and my understanding of making peace had to change.

Of the many definitions of “peace”, I gravitate toward its nuance of being in right relationship with people, creation, and Creator. But right relationship does not always mean going back to the way things were. Right relationship can mean entering into something entirely new because what you’ve known was less than or is no longer.

How limiting it is to imagine peace as a return to what once was. As if peace could only look one way. As if we got it right the first time. But when I let those confines go and face the unknown, making peace feels exploratory, risky, and creative.

I spoke with my friend on the phone recently and we acknowledged that we both have changed. Our friendship will not go back to what it once was, and I am eager to see how it won’t.

Sarah D. Park is a freelance writer whose work focuses on the cultivation of cross-racial dialogue with a Christian faith orientation. She is also a story producer for Inheritance Magazine and manages communications for several organizations. She currently calls the Bay Area her home but is an Angeleno through and through.