growth

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A Parable of Friendship and Faith

I walked through my entire childhood with my best friend. We spent hours together every day as I read stories, played, and went to school. We spent every Sunday morning together in Sunday school. I don’t even know how many hours of Vacation Bible School we spent together. As we grew, I knew my best friend so well. We were so comfortable together. Even into high school and college, we spent as much time together as I could manage with my schedule. It felt comforting to know someone so well. I felt connected because we were so much alike. 

Young adulthood came, though, and nothing seemed the same. I heard new rumors about my friend that I kept denying because they just couldn’t be true. 

“I met your friend at the dance last night. I’m so glad we met.”

“That couldn’t be my friend,” I exclaimed. “You must be wrong. My friend would never be at a dance, much less on a Wednesday night. That’s mid-week Bible study where you can come to if you want to.” 

“I met your friend at Pride. You should have come as well.”

““That couldn’t be my friend,” I exclaimed. “You must be wrong. My friend would never be at a Pride event. I’m sure you’re a nice person, but your choices are so wrong. I’ll pray for, and I’ll tell my friend to help you as well.” 

“I met your friend at the Black Lives Matter march.”

“That couldn’t be my friend,” I exclaimed. “You must be wrong. My friend would never be at a march. The people marching are the ones causing trouble instead of seeking peace. They should all be arrested.”

I was angry and hurt by now. So many people were saying things about my friend that couldn’t be true. I knew my friend. I knew every aspect of their personality. I knew who and what they loved. I knew their house. I knew their heart. I distanced myself from these confused people and went to find my friend. I stepped into church and felt comfortable there. I knew my friend would be here. And they were. But instead of putting my heart at ease, they just kept saying, “You really need to get to know me better.”

“No, stop. I know you. I know YOU!” I didn’t want anything about our relationship to change. I had read their diaries and letters and report cards and poems. I knew them. I resented my friend suggesting that I didn’t after all of these years. I would not let this relationship change. I hung on to the memories I had, and I stayed in that building with a determination that felt crucial to my very existence. 

Years later, I was still in that building with my own child who brought in someone new. I pulled my child aside saying I wasn’t sure this building was the right place for their new friend. “But they know your friend,” my child answered. 

Suddenly my heart warmed as I saw the young friendship of my child and this child starting to grow. I remembered my youth and the feeling of being loved and being able to love. “Where did you meet my friend?” I asked.

“Outside behind the community center. Your friend helps serve soup to all of us homeless families every Saturday.” 

I walked outside and looked around. I saw the familiar artwork that bore the fingerprints of my friend. I saw love in people’s eyes. I saw my community working together to bring love, hope, and justice to so many people I had never even met. My friend was taking part in all of this. I went back into the building and picked up my Bible. The light flooded in the nearby window and illuminated the words of Jesus. Love…weep…leave the ninety-nine to find the one…blessed are the peacemakers…blessed are those who mourn…the Samaritan who gave so much…the bent-over woman…the forgiveness…the women…the leper. 

I had never really known my friend, I realized. I had known me and fit my friend into my shadow. “Come dance with me,” I heard my friend call. 

“I’m coming, Jesus. Let’s go see these people you know. I want to truly get to know you and the ones you love.” 

“I love you. Let’s go. You’re going to love what I have to show you. Put on your dancing shoes and be prepared to hug.” And I walked out of that building holding on to love and hope. 

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Cultivating…new relationships

My goal for 2020 has been to cultivate new opportunities for my life. What a challenge! I thought I would choose a word (cultivating) for the year instead of setting a resolution. It sounded challenging, yet doable. How can I fail at living out a word, right? Well, I’m not failing at it, but I am learning how hard changing some of my thoughts and ways can be.

What have I worked on so far? First, I have worked on cultivating new and healthy relationships. I moved away from many toxic relationships in 2019. I had stayed connected to some people out of guilt or out of family or social expectations. No more…if I am going to be healthy, I have to be around people who are healthy for me. People who are encouragers. People who are honest and loving when I ask for feedback. People who want me to be whole and healthy. People who are in my corner and want me to be in theirs.

Forming new friendships can be challenging. It means I have to grow and stretch. I have to reach out to others. That doesn’t come naturally to me. How have I done it? I’ve joined new groups, found book clubs and study groups and volunteer groups. Not only did I find them, but I also actually showed up to places. I introduced myself. I listened to others and got involved. I did this with careful thought, however. I didn’t “over promise.” I agreed to show up when I am available…no long-term commitments or weekly promises that I can’t keep or will feel guilty over. I got social media contacts for a few people so we can stay in touch without a deep commitment at first. I also planned and actually went to dinner with a new friend.

Cultivating new relationships doesn’t come naturally to many of us. I am quite happy with a good book most days. But I need to be part of a larger community to grow and to find new joys in life. I can do that on my own terms, though. I can do that in ways that allow me to have my down time, my alone time to regroup and be quiet.

I have found new joys. I have laughed and chatted with new people that I would not have known had I not been intentionally cultivating new relationships. I am learning because I am reaching out to new people who have something to teach me through their life experiences that are different from me. I am finding strength because I am also reaching out to people who share some of my own life experiences and can understand where I am coming from and offer encouragement out of their own stories.

So, on to more cultivating new relationships in life!