What kind of friend am I?

You can tell it’s me when I keep going back to the same couple of verses, getting different tidbits out of it.

I find myself stuck on Pashhur, the mean priest, the beater, the “stockputter.” I even find it challenging to type his name correctly—the double “h” thing…

As I read him again this morning, I see he is a terror to all his friends; it’s as if his friends will need to pay the ultimate price just because they are friends of Mr Double H:

For thus says the LORD: Behold, I will make you a terror to yourself and to all your friends. They shall fall by the sword of their enemies while you look on. Jer 20.4

Do a fast forward to some guy laying on a makeshift stretcher. His four friends are disturbing church by making a racket while putting a skylight in the roof… there are pieces of plywood and shingle falling through, dust is everywhere—

When the preacher looked up and saw these four fellows being friends in need, friends indeed, friends with faith, he spoke to Stretcherman and said, “Man, your sins are forgiven you.”

Wow.

One ruffian got his friends exterminated, four roofers got their friend healed.

And then there is Marcos.

What kind of friend am I?