All my fears relieved

I don't know what your biggest fear is.
  Maybe your biggest fear is feeling inadequate
or speaking in public.

Through a series of events recently I realized that my biggest fear is losing people that I love.

In June, when my Nana passed away, it was something we were all prepared for.  She was, afterall, 96 and in ailing health.

Then in mid July I got a phone call on a Wednesday night that my Dad was in the hospital, they didn't know what was wrong with him, but his condition was rapidly deteriorating.

I was scared out of my mind.
I didn't sleep much.
I cried, hard.

I enlisted everyone I could possibly think of to pray.  And pray they did.

I continued to feel overwhelmingly scared.  I love my parents, I rely on them a lot, how and what would life be if my Dad wasn't around.

There came a moment late one night when I realized that thing that we all know in our head, but not always in our heart.  We are not guaranteed much in this life, other than that God gives and takes away, and one day we will all stand before him, it's inevitable.  I can't hold a knuckle white grip onto the things, err, people I deeply care about, because they are not in my hands, they are in HIS hands.

My Dad's condition continued to deteriorate and he was transferred to a much bigger and better hospital where they were finally able to diagnose him.  They started treating him for a rare form of Guillian Barre.

My fears turned from "will he live?"  to "will he walk again and lead a 'normal' life"

I googled prognosis, I read research, and I prayed and continued to ask friends and family around the world to pray.  They did.  They still are.

In ways that only God can, He provided healing for my Dad.  It's delivery did include amazing specialists and medications.  He still has progress to make.  My Dad walked out of the hospital with a cane just 20 days after initial onset of symptoms.  This is pretty much unheard of.

Why am I surprised?  Isn't God the God who makes the impossible possible?

In Daniel 3, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednago refuse to bow down to the gods that King Nebuchadnezzar had created.  They are brought before the King and questioned.  They are about to be thrown into the fiery furnace.  In verses 16-18 they respond "O Nebuchadnezza, we have no need to answer you in this matter.  If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king.  But if not, be it known to you, O King, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up."

If you know the story, you know that they were thrown into the furnace, and then they walked out.  They left the king praising God.

There were several nights in a row that I didn't really sleep, but I prayed, that God would heal my Dad, but if He didn't I would still praise Him, I would still trust Him. 

That was really hard.  What I really wanted to do was drive to Michigan, yell at doctors, and take things into my own rediculous hands.

God did and is healing my Dad, and so many friends are praising God with us as a result.

Would I want to go through this again? No

At the same time I'm thankful for the reminder that the One who is in control, is not me, and is faithful.  No matter what.

Where Do Missionaries Go to Die?

This is a question I had never really thought about until recently.
In my mind missionaries travel off into the wild blue yonder and are heard from occasionally in the form of support/prayer letters.  Sometimes they come "home" on furlough and give talks at church.

Then I spent Memorial Day weekend with some friends who serve at a missionary sending headquarters.  They have several retired missionaries who live there.

They are provided extremely cheep housing, and several meals a week.  Some of them, who are able, have garden plots.  It's a beautiful place, and it's also where missionaries who are about to be sent to the field stay for training.  I'm just geussing but I bet it provides the old missionaries an oppertunity to mentor the young ones.

And that's when it hit me.  How many missionary sending boards think about retirement for their missionaries, or have a place for them to go when they are rushed back to the US because of health issues, or because war has errupted where they were living?

I can identify with the evacuation thing.  The summer between my 3rd and 4th grade years war broke out just north of our home in the Middle East.  Saddam Hussein had invaded Kuwait.  Thankfully we were already in the States on vacation, but many of my friends can tell you stories of gas masks and evacuation plans.

Though we were already in safety, our plans to return home were abruptly cancelled and my parents were trying to quickly come up with a plan for a place for us to live in the mean time.  That plan ended up including several tough months crammed in my grandparents house, and then several months in the house my parents ended up purchasing in the same town.

Thankfully after a year it was relatively safe again and we returned to the Middle East.  Though it could have been a lot more hectic and scary than it actually was, it is still a year of vivid memories, and was filled with a lot of quesitons and fears.

When I was spending time with my friends we talked about a lot of things, like what the stuff donated in the missionary bin actually looks like, and whether it's actually used, and what it's like to dress your kids out of it.

I really started thinking, we talk so much about supporting missionaries in the church, when we do, we talk about things like praying, and giving money.  But what about the spiritual and emotional needs?  What about clothing that needs to be bought new (like underwear, that doesn't get donated)  What about maintaining relationships with these people and their kids so that when they do return to the States, whether for furlough or forever, they don't feel like they are floundering and completely alone.

One time I was hanging out with my missionary cousin.  They were in the States for a very quick visit due to a death in the family.  They took me to the bookstore and said "you read a lot, put some books in the cart."  I'm not joking, they trusted me completely, I felt a little weird, what if they don't like my selections and this is what their stuck with to read in the next 2 years?  The next time they were in the States for a longer period of time, I sent a box of books I had read that were sitting on my shelf.  I said "take what you want, donate the rest to Goodwill."  What if the next time I bought a book I really wanted to read, I bought two copies and sent the 2nd to a missionary friend, or even bought one copy and sent it on after finishing it?  What if the next time I buy new underwear, I by a gift card to the same store to send to a missionary sending board to be passed on to someone in their ministry who needs it?  What if the next time missionaries from my church are in town, I invited them over for dinner, or took them to my favorite restaurant, or took them hiking on my favorite trail?  What if I wrote their birthdays on my calendar and sent them birthday cards?

I am just beginning to process all this, and wonder what it means for me.  I have several friends who are missionaries overseas.  How can I be a better sister in Christ to them?  How can is support them beyond praying and donating to their fund?
I haven't gotten to far into this process, but I started reading here, just to understand the needs better.  Do you have ideas?  I'd love to hear them, maybe we can embark on this journey of supporting our missionary friends better together.  And I know some of my missionary friends are reading this, I love you, I'm praying for you, and I would love your honest feedback too.

The great big search begins...

I am looking forward to life slowing down, and getting settled.  I've found a club to swim with, and local farm to get produce from.  I've learned which day to take my trash out, and where to take my massive amounts of cardboard.  I've found the local public library (it's awesome by the way) and driven home from work without Gretchen, the great GPS, yelling directions at me, and without getting lost.
 Part of getting settled is finding a church home.  This time I am going to be a little more cautious than I was the last time I moved.

I have a tendency to find what I think I'm looking for and jump all in without fully considering the pros and cons.  I have done it while looking for a church after a move, I do it all the time when I am shopping, I did it when I bought my first house.  In fact when I moved to Murray, I signed a lease without actually seeing the place first, talk about jumping in and taking a risk.

I am determined to have more self control this time, and take more time to consider the options.

Being in a new place is hard and I would prefer to skip ahead to the time when I am actively involved in a church, part of a small group, etc...  But it's a big decision.  I tend to just settle instead of holding out for the best fit.

This spring I was reading Financial Peace by David Ramsey, he said that in today's culture we expect to have today what our parents took 20 years to accumulate.  He was talking about finances but I think I look at church that way too.  I would prefer the settled, been going to this church for 2 years place, rather than the "hey I'm new and feeling awkward" phase.  I would rather skip that phase all together.  The reality is that you just can't skip that phase, and I need to be more patient in the beginning.

Some good friends had a very methodical method (I know that was redundant) when they were looking for a new church a while back.  They made a list of churches they wanted to check out, then they attended each church for a full 4 weeks before formulating an opinion.  Their rationale was that you can't fully experience a church in just one Sunday, you might love it or hate it, and it's a fluke.  Even if they liked a church, after 4 weeks they moved on to the next church, going to every church on their list before making a decision.

Making a decision to choose a specific church is a big decision.  This is the place where I am going to commit to ministry, these are the people that will influence my life, this is the pastor whose teaching I will listen to on a weekly basis.

Is this a healthy church body?  Is it a growing church body?  Are there people who can mentor me?  Are there people who will invite me into their church family?  Is there lots of drama distracting the church from it's purpose?  Are there cliques?  Is there a place I can serve?

These are all questions I will be asking over the next several months, it's a daunting process.  This time I am commited to perservering and not settling for the first church that seems decent.

The Night Before the 4th

About 4 years ago, when Rochester, NH was going to have to cancel their 4th of July celebrations due to budget restraints, one pastor, in one of those divinely appointed moments, said "our church will do it."  He and his church rallied, stepped up to the plate, and worked their butts off, so that their entire community would have a need met.  He had one condition though, that the church be allowed to conduct the celebrations however they saw fit.

Four years later, their Night Before The Fourth is still going strong, in a community very much different from the one I just moved from.  It's a community where church going is the exception, not the rule, people don't ask where you go to church, they act shocked to hear that you do go to church.

With over 300 volunteers, that's pretty much every church member old enough to walk, and maybe carry something, they pull off a pretty great event.  It was estimated that between 8,000-9,000 people attended this year.  You can read here what the local paper had to say.

I had heard about this event, mainly because I have several friends who attend this church.  On July 3, 2012, one of them was at the fair grounds early in the morning setting up, one was there in the evening painting faces, one was parking cars, and one was dressed as Superman, inviting families to bring their kids to vacation Bible school.

The youth group and their leaders where out and about, approaching families with teenagers, talking to them, and inviting to some special youth group events.

Bagpipes where played and veterans were honored.  It was an amazing mix of old traditions, and new.

A Christian band entertained as the crowd as the gathered to wait for the fireworks.

The lead singer shared her testimony and sung songs about Vietnam and her faith.
Then the church's worship band played, some of the youth group girls danced and recieved rousing applause.  Some of the youth group boys performed an original rap, the middle aged women on the worship team backed them up, the crowd was captivated.

The pastor gave a short gospel presentation, by this time the crowd was at it's max.  Think about this, in a town in a region of the country where Christians are few, and sharing your faith is often hard and not accepted well, this pastor had a vision and his church chased it, and in doing so 8-9,000 people who would never normally attend church, basically attended church on the public fairgrounds.

And then they watched the fireworks, provided by the church.

And just in case you want to go to their church, they provided these to all attenders.

Dirctions on the back.

Way to go Journey Baptist Church, you inspire me.

Here is the truth.
As much fun as I've had catching up with friends, eating at my cousin's restaurant, enjoying family...
the last 4 weeks have been extremely hard as well.
No matter how much you prepare yourself, when faced with watching someone you love slowly die, you can never fully prepare.
Every time I've seen Nana for about the last 3 years, I've worried that it would be the last.  Every time my brother saw her, he would tell me I needed to come home soon to see her again.
When I arrived on Memorial Day, I was not prepared for Nana to call me Marcia.
I was prepared to start switching off with my Aunt spending time with her to give my Aunt a break.
I wasn't prepared that I would be the one to feed her the last thing she ate (coffee brandy ice cream from sully's) and for her to literally fall asleep between bites.
I wasn't prepared to have to tell my older brother that if he wanted to say goodbye, he needed to come immediately.
I wasn't prepared to take my older brother to see Nana, having been there just 2 days earlier and see the dramatic change as she wasted away.
I wasn't prepared to have to tell my younger brother that there was no way we would be able to set up skype and to hold the phone up near her head so he could say goodbye from California.
I wasn't prepared to have to call my parents and tell them not to drive back to Michigan from my Dad's boarding school reunion.
I wasn't prepared to have to interview for a job I really wanted and worry the whole time that I was missing phone calls telling me I needed to come back immediately.  Fortunately God is sovereign and that is actually the job I ended up taking, there is no telling how ridiculously distracted I was throughout the 6 ish hour process.  I used cruise control the whole way home so that I wouldn't speed, can't afford a ticket right now.

I wasn't prepared to be waiting for a phone call for a job offer for that job I really wanted, and a phone call saying Nana had taken her last breath on the same day.

I was prepared that Nana would die sometime in the first 6 months I was in New England, I wasn't prepared that it would happen before I had even moved my stuff up from Kentucky.

I wasn't prepared for the length of time it took from Nana having nothing by mouth, to her actually passing away.

I wasn't prepared to be on the phone looking for a new apartment in the morning, and standing with  my family waiting for the funeral home guy to come the same afternoon.

It's during times like this that I am reminded that God gives us friends to be His hands and feet.
There is the friend I sent a late Saturday night message saying "hey I'm coming to your church tomorrow, where and what time is the service?" and who hugged me hard and let me cry when I burst into tears the moment I saw her, not knowing what on earth was going on.
She is the same friend who said "let me lend you my juicer so you have something familiar to you in all the chaos."
Her husband, the pastor, asked questions to make sure I had the spiritual support I needed being somewhere that I don't have a church family and made sure that I had their phone numbers so that he could be there if I needed them.
Then there was the friend, who said "yes the house is crowded with all your family crammed in waiting, come crash at my house."
That same friend and her husband danced around the kitchen as I got the phone call with the job offer and I felt like I was going to pass out.  For all that my family is really excited, I don't know that they would have been able to dance around in unhindered celebration like my friends did.

There are the friends, fully aware of all that was going on and sent text messages saying "I'm praying about all this."

There are the friends who just sat there and listened, and kept filling my cup.
There is the friend who is taking care of her ailing grandfather and could relate.

I know God's timing is perfect, I recognize that had this all happened even a few weeks from now, I would not have been able to have the time available to be here the way my Aunt needed, to sit with Nana and feed her, to do the laundry and run the dishwasher, to make sure my Uncle got the meals he needed while she sat with Nana.  My Uncle is on an extremely strict diet due to his severe health crisis almost 2 years ago.

I wouldn't want it any other way than how it happened, however it has been an extreme emotional roller coaster. 

A Few Good Men

I wrote this post about a week ago, then Nana's condition deteriorated quite rapidly.  She passed away this week and in the midst of it all I didn't post this.  But as I am revisiting it tonight, it still makes me smile, so I'm posting it anyway.

When I was visiting my friends in Pennsylvania on my drive up to New England, my friend Mike accidentally let it slip that he had arranged for his sister in law to come down and take care of the kids while he took his wife away for the upcoming weekend for their anniversary.  It was awesome to see her reaction when she realized what he had done.

While I was riding around with my cousin, she was bragging about how her husband always makes sure her gas tank is filled up.  Then she decided to stop and get some gas and didn't know which side of the car her tank is on, because, umm, well she rarely actually has to put gas in her car.

Last weekend while I was a hanging out with a friend, her husband was away at a men's retreat.  He texted her to say that he had been really thinking about some things he needed to do to be a better husband and father and leader of their family.  Later he called to pray with her before they went to bed.

About a year ago I wrote about how much man bashing bothers me.  
I actually went on a personal campaign to be encourager to the single men in my life.  It was quite funny to see the intial responses when I would send a message that said "hey I really appreciate the way you..." followed by something specific.
At first several of them didn't know how to take it.  "What do you need?"  was often the response.
"Nothing, I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate your pursuit of Godly character."
"Oh"

Lately I have been incredibly encouraged by the Godly men several friends have married, and reminded that there are good men out there.

But here's the other part of the story, I have been AMAZED as my friends have bragged on their husbands, and as I have watched them interact with their husbands.

When I say brag, I don't mean inocuous statements like "Steve is a great husband, I love how he loves our kids."  I mean specifics, "I really appreciate Steve's commitment to study God's Word and pray with us as a family regularly"

My friends are not perfect, and neither are their husbands.  But I definitely appreciate their commitment to love, honor, protect, lead their wives and families.  And I definitely appreciate the wives commitment to serve, encourage, respect their husbands.

I love that they are honest about marriage, that they admit that it's not always easy.  But I also love that they don't bash their husbands, and are quick to point out the great things about their husband's character.

It definitely gives this single girl hope.

Riding Around in Cars: Mom Friends and the Single Girl

Disclaimer: After posting this, I received much feedback, mostly from friends, some with kids, some without, who loved it, wanted to share it with their mom's group, etc... and a very small few who thought I was specifically talking about them or their group of friends. The reality is that I had no one specific in mind when I wrote this post other than the amazing mom friends I am thankful to have in my life. They are women from all sorts of walks of life, some work, some don't, some are planning on homeschooling, some are former public school teachers who aren't sure how they are going to educate their kids yet, some are family, some are college friends. I respect and value them all. I had recently read a blog post by a woman who was lamenting that after her recent marriage, her single friends had faded from her life. I commented that while it's true many single friends feel very awkward after their friends get married, she might consider whether or not she had stopped calling, returning phone calls, whether she was too busy every time they asked to get together etc... with her single friends. She hadn't thought of that and responded that it was true, she had stopped. Out of that and three days in a row of mom friends asking me to sit in the car with their kids, came this post. This is not in anyway a commentary on what makes a good mom or how people should or shouldn't raise their children

I've figured it out.
All my mom friends really want is to have someone sit in the car with their kids while they run into the store for a few quick things.

And that is fine with me.
That's when we take the crazy face photos.

Meanwhile their mom's run inside to grab a coffee, or snacks for Bible study tonight.

It's been an interesting ride with some moms in my life.
Some treated me like my singleness was a disease they might catch.Those were the mom friends who acted like they had it all together, wouldn't admit that life was hard, and were too proud to say "hey I just really want to order coffee without my kids screaming about donuts."  Those people aren't friends anymore.  I learned that those friendships were friendships of convenience, and it just wasn't convenient for them anymore.

Some said "yes I'd love to spend time with you, want to come over and help me take my kids to the park? I really need them to run around but am a little overwhelmed and would love an extra set of hands"
And I said "yes I'd love to."
And then they asked "hey would you mind if we stopped at Dunkin Donuts and I ran inside while you stayed with the kids?"
And I said "yes I'd love to."
And they said "hey do you want anything?"
And I said no "I grabbed my coffee on the way over, take your time, bask in the moment, read the whole menu if you want."

Memo to the mom friends, singleness is not a disease, you can't catch it, but your single friends would probably love to help you get the kids into their car seats, and sit in the car while you run in to grab 3 items at the grocery store, just for the opportunity to hang out with the friends they love, even though those friends are married and have kids.

I've been spending a bunch of time with mom friends lately, which means their kids have been telling me all the family secrets while they ran into the store.

Yesterday I learned that my cousin's husband poops.  I mean I think I kind of, sort of knew that, but it was confirmed for me, while mom was in the store.

Want a litmus test mom friends?  Here it is, if you are no longer friends with, or haven't seen your single friends in ages, stop to take a moment and think about why?  Did you start telling them that you had a problem with your their singleness?  Did you tell them you were too busy having play dates with all your mom friends?  Did you forget how to talk about anything but poop, potty training, and freezer cooking?

I've heard a million times about how "single people are selfish" or "single people just don't understand" or "single people ..." fill in the blank, basically we are terrible moody selfish people.  To be honest, that is true of some single people.  But the rest of us would love to sit in the car with your kids if you would just give us the chance, just for an opportunity to serve you and to talk with you, and spend time with you.

I am so thankful for the mom friends who have been willing to take the time to remain friends, and who haven't become so wrapped up in being a mom that they have lost sight of who God created them to be.  Being a mom does change you, that is true, but it doesn't mean you have to cut out all the people who aren't at that stage of life.  God didn't call you to be a mom, He called you to be a godly woman, no matter what stage of life you are in.  Those people who aren't in the same stage of life as you might in fact enrich your life, if you would let them.  And you and your kids have the opportunity to enrich their lives, if you would just take it.

Rally the troops, she is living a good story!

Sometimes I think my spiritual gifts include story collecting.
Anyway this isn't about me, I'm excited to tell you this story.
I've known my friend, for now we will call her MaeBob, since the summer of 2000, she was one of my bosses at the Christian camp we both worked at.
MaeBob was in her 30s at the time, and working toward a second degree in education.  She had a great desire to be a wife and a mom.  That hasn't happened in her life, until now, sort of.
MaeBob is an elementary school teacher, she has chosen to teach at a small Christian school, she makes very little money.  But she loves kids and sees her job as ministry, the way we all should.
Recently, through a series of events, only explainable by saying they were clearly orchestrated by God, MaeBob is in the process of becoming the guardian of an abandoned little girl.
MaeBob wasn't pursuing this, she wasn't trying to be a foster parent, she wasn't looking into adoption, she was approached by someone at her church, and she said yes.
She said yes to this little less than 2 yearold child, and she said "Yes God, I take Your Word seriously.  I will trust You."
On Monday when I heard about these events unfolding in my friend's life, I was so excited and overwhelmed I got a little teary eyed.  I've known MaeBob for 12 years, I know this isn't the way she imagined becoming a mom, but wow.
We don't know how long this little one will be in MaeBob's care, we don't know if MaeBob will be her forever family, or if this is for a season.
What I did know on Monday is that MaeBob's income is very small, this child came to her with nothing but the contents of her meager diaper bag.
When my friends have gotten married and had babies, we've thrown parties, showered them with the "things" they would "need" for the journey.  To be totally honest, anyone who knows me well knows that I'm not a huge shower fan, I think they tend to be extremely shallow and vain.
But this time I knew, I knew we had to do it and we had to do it fast.
So with the help of Arwen, and her sister Bethany we rallied the troops.  We decided an impromptu shower was not a good idea, it was necessary.
Arwen sent out a message to her church, which her sister in law Melissa sent to her MOPS group.
Can we just say "Holy Wow God's people, just WOW"
One woman in Mellisa's group is in the process of moving, she already had a pile of goods to get rid of, and this woman's children are adopted, she has a special place in her heart for orphans.  Other moms contributed too, expensive strollers, ride around toys, clothes, sippy cups.... IN 24 HOURS, 24 HOURS.
Friday night when we were hanging out with our friend Diane, who has many mutual friends of MaeBob's and we told her the story, she said hold on, walked upstairs to the room where her daughter was sleeping, and brought down some gifts, she said "here, I've never used these, add them to the gifts."
Our friend Lauren, who has never met MaeBob said, stop by on your way, I have a flexible flier tricycle.
Let me also just say that these are mostly women who don't know MaeBob, have never met her.
Bethany drove around and collected goods.  Arwen called MaeBob's house, which is more like a duplex where she lives on one side with her mom, and where her sister, brother in law and niece and nephew live on the other side.  We invited ourselves over on Saturday.  We decided that with all the changes going on in MaeBob's life, the last thing we wanted to do was make life complicated, and we had collected a ton of stuff.
I went and got flowers and cake, cut veggies and made dip.
And we showed up.

And bags of clothes were opened.

and we got to love on this adorable kid.

Arwen put her social working skills to good work, sifting through the paper work and explaining it to MaeBob so she fully understands it all.

MaeBob's BFF Karen showed up with some more stuff.

We sat around visiting and talking, and encouraging MaeBob.  She did admit wondering how on earth she was going to manage this, how was she going to afford it, how was she going to afford childcare while she goes to work.  We reminded her that she has a pretty big village, we will all be with her through this.

As we drove home, Arwen commented that this was the best gift giving experience of her life.  I couldn't agree more.  Way to go body of Christ, and keep it up.  Please please pray for MaeBob and little Miss.

Hey, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

While I was hanging out with Arwen on Monday, our good friend Katy called to say hi.  Katy has a very busy job and this is a very busy time of year for her.  I understand and can relate.  I had been wanting to hang out with her, but also aware that she didn't have much free time.

Tuesday morning when I woke up, I realized that it was her birthday, and that she was only an hour away, and I had to drive to Connecticut for an interview anyway, and even though Katy wasn't really on the way, she wasn't super out of the way either.

So I did what any good, crazy friend would do, I sent a Facebook message to her fiance telling him to call or text me.

A small side note, when you have lived really far away for 9 years, your good friends meet people and fall in love, and you don't really have a chance to get to know their future spouses.

Katy and Dan met in a most amazing way, that involved Katy's van catching fire when Katy and Dan were headed to the same retreat with their youth groups from their separate churches.  True story folks.

Anyway, Dan #2 called me, and said that yes it would be fine for me to stop by mid afternoon.

So after packing some stuff into my car, off I headed to the oldest fishing community in America.

I found Katy hard at work.

And I got to tell her happy birthday to her face.

And I got to see her hard at work, she is amazing

.

And I got to get to know her soon to be husband a little better.  It was awesome to see how proud of her he is.

It was time well spent.

At the end of the visit, I drove off, I passed this...

It's a monument to the men from Gloucester who served in the 1898 war against Spain.

And again I was reminded, there is history all around this area of the country.  And also that friends make time for their friends, go out of their way to encourage them, celebrate birthdays, maintain the relationships.  It's really not that hard, you just have to choose to do it.

Where to after the jump?

Recently while talking with the girls in my Monday night Bible study back in Kentucky, I said that I had courage to step out in faith and trust God, partly because God is trustworthy, and partly because I had courageous friends who went before me.

I had the opportunity over Memorial Day weekend to spend some time with some of those friends.

I've known these friends since my freshman year of college.  She was in my Bible study, he was the cook at camp my first summer there.  They met and fell in love, that is it's own story.

They were living the typical American "dream" working, working, paying for the house, raising the kids, working.  Then God began to direct them in other ways.

They sold their house.

They moved to Spain for 6 months.

Then they ended up north of Philly.

I hadn't seen them since their now 8 year old daughter was just days old.  When I realized that it would be a perfect place to stop and visit on my road trip, I was excited.

It was such a blessing to hang out with them, catch up on life, meet their 3 kids, and mostly hear where God is leading them.

It is so amazing to see a couple who said they would go where He sends them, pick up, and actually go where He is sending them, no road map, no agenda, no master plan.

For now He isn't sending them to a hut in Africa.  For now He has sent them to a missions headquarters where he uses his culinary skills and degree to cook for missionaries about to go out to the field, and those who have given their lives overseas and now need a place to be.

And of course we did some hiking, and eating, and otherwise had fun times.

I don't know what you think, but I think water guns seem like the best way to water the garden.

One thing I really appreciated was the total lack of need to pursue stuff.  No need to eat out, or buy fancy things.  These are people who I know enjoy nice clothes, good food, but they have chosen to leave that behind.  It's not that they don't still enjoy those things, but they are committed to something greater.

.

Another really exciting part of this visit was a side visit out to Lancaster, PA where we were able to meet up with 3 special college girls.  The middle one was a camper in my cabin 12 years ago, she was 7.  It was amazing to chat with them, to hear what God is doing in their lives.

We heard about a recent trip to Uganda! And then of course we went to eat at a restaurant with dutch food and an Amish buggy.

.I loved the lack of awkwardness that sometimes comes when you see friends you haven't seen in a really long time.  I loved the conversations that left me with lots to think about.  I loved watching wheels turn in his head as he thought of guys he could set me up with.  I love that she takes pride in her clean vehicle (no small feat with small kids, I know) and spends lots of time focusing on the ways she can encourage her husband and kids.

I am so thankful that my community includes people whose lives look very different than me, and yet we find common ground in Christ.  I love that we have been able to mostly keep up with each others lives via technology over the years.  What a great weekend.

Slow and Gradual

Last fall, when I knew I was planning on moving in the next 12 months, I asked a friend who had recently relocated from the east coast to Michigan what she thought she had done well, and what she would have changed about the transition.
She said she wished she and her husband had told people sooner that they were planning on moving.  She said that because they waited until the move was just weeks away, they didn't get to have quality goodbyes with people.  She told me that people take the news in a variety of ways, some people were happy for them, some people were sad, some people were downright mad.  She told me that by the time people had gotten over their initial reactions, it was too late to have a good goodbye, they had already gone.  Her advice was to go ahead and start telling people, even though I didn't know what my time frame would be.

I thought long and hard about her advice.  Then I took it, I slowly started telling people around me that my plan was to be relocated to New England by the end of June.  That was back in September and October.  She was right, some people were excited for me, some people gave me the cold shoulder for a time.

Over the last few weeks though, I have had the opportunity to say quality goodbyes.  I haven't been rushed.  I've had going away meals with people, I've had time to stop by various offices that I have worked with over the years, to say goodbye.

Because my house sold and I moved everything into storage back in February, I haven't had to juggle the details of moving out with saying goodbye.

I am incredibly thankful for that wise advice.

This morning as I drive off, there are a few people I wish I would have had time to see one last time, but for the most part I am incredibly thankful for the amazing relationships I've made in this place.  I am looking forward to maintaining several of them.

House 3, the last place in Murray

For the last 12 days of my time in Murray, I borrowed a room from the sister/roommate of one of the girls in my Bible study.  She had left for the summer and so I was able to use her space as a staging and repacking and sleeping area for my last days here.  It has been a time of hanging out with friends, quiet times with the Lord, and getting back on track with the paleo.  Maintaining the paleo diet was somewhat hard while living in limbo over the last several weeks.  It also put me back on the same road I lived on when I first moved here 7 years ago.
Again, I am grateful for the generosity of friends.

One thing I realized this last week is that there is no way I could have done this year the way it has been had I been married and with kids.  The moving from one place to another, living somewhat out of my truck, staying with friends in a spare room would not have been possible had I been responsible for other beings.

So today I am thankful for the many friends who have been there for me in one way of another over the last year, and for the gift of singleness which has allowed for this time.

House 2

After staying at house 1 for 3 months, it was time for me to move on.  I spent the weekend with friends at their house on the lake.

I had a restful weekend which consisted of the following:
sitting outside reading
sitting inside reading
canoeing in a light drizzle
sleeping
watching documentaries




On Saturday a friend came out and we went to Belews

We also stopped by a fun gift shop on the way home.

Then on Sunday, another friend came out (to her parents house, where I was staying)

We ate an awesome meal, sat on the dock, and watched her dog

It was restful, encouraging, fun weekend. I am thankful for that time.

Entertaining Angels

I used to squirm about the idea of having people over to my house, mainly because I tend to compare myself to my mom in the area of hospitality. Anyone who knows my mom knows that she most definitely has the gift of hospitality.

I realized about a year ago that comparing myself to her was ridiculous. She is definitely one of the most generous people I know, but she also stayed at home almost my entire childhood, and she had domestic help in the form of what we Aramco Brats like to call the houseboy.

Our houseboy, Maurti, came twice a week, he vacuumed at lot, he did laundry, he washed the car, he did whatever my mom had on a list for him to do.

I don't have a houseboy, and I work more than 40 hours a week.

I started having people over more, but I also spent my free time beforehand trying to vacuum a lot.

Then life happened.

Then the girls in my Bible study wanted to have a function at my house, a game night for Christian single people we know. No couples allowed. No children allowed. No toddlers allowed.

I said okay and we started planning it.
We invited people.

THEN MY WORK SCHEDULE CHANGED. SHOCKER.

Then they were throwing a party at my house that I was going to be over an hour late to.
I didn't have time to scrub and clean and vacuum, and make sure there was lots of extra toilet paper in the bathroom, or to even clean the bathroom.

AND SOME HOW I WAS OKAY WITH THAT.

Truly a Christmas Miracle.

So Tuesday night I called to make sure they had gotten into my house okay, and then to tell them that all I had to drink was eggnog, and that I hadn't gotten around to making the spinach dip I was suppose to make.

And then an hour after the party started, I showed up. I walked into my house and they exclaimed "Cate, you're home! How was work!?" And it was just what I needed after a really long day at work. There were people I didn't know there. I thought for a second "Oh no, this is their first impression of me, my carpet has some dog hair on it, I only vacuumed it last week." And then I let it go, and had a great time.

I am not my mother. One day maybe, if I ever am blessed to be a stay at home mom, I will be able to throw parties remotely close to what my mom throws, and they will be awesome.
I am not in a season in life where I can do that right now, and that's okay.

But I can remember that the things I have aren't really mine, they were intrusted to me to bless others.
And I can remember that hospitality has many different looks.
And I can remember Hebrews 13:2 which says "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."

Fictive Families

The other day I was on the phone with Arwen, when she made an incredible insight on my life.

She has been doing a lot of training for her job lately and she came across the term "fictive family" also known as "fictive kin"

Fictive family or kin is a grouping of people who are not related to each other biologically or through marriage, but act as though they are.

For example, when Arwen and her husband have children, they will know me as Auntie Cate, the same term my niece and nephew use for me. It will not be till Arwen's kids are a little older that they will understand that I am not actually their aunt, but am rather a close friend of their parents.

Everywhere I have ever lived, until I moved to Kentucky, I have been in places where fictive family is incredibly common.

In the Middle East where I grew up, no one had their actual biological grandparents or aunts and uncles around, so other people, friends of my parents, fit into that role. It wasn't a conscious decision, it just kind of happened. I didn't spend holidays like Christmas or Easter with biological aunts, uncles, and cousins. I did however spend them with close friends of my parents.

In New England it is also very common to form fictive families.

Though my Aunt and Uncle lived just an hour from school, it was not uncommon for me to have several different options for any given holiday or long weekend if I wasn't going to their house.

My freshman year, I went home to northern NH with my friend Ty for spring break.
During that trip it was as if I was melded into her family. Later on, after Ty transferred to chiropractic school, I would sometimes call her when she was at her parent's house, her dad would answer the phone and we would talk for a good 15 minutes or more before Ty would demand the phone from him.

Then there is my camp family, the people I worked with in the White Mountains for 2 summers, and worked church retreats on weekends frequently in the winter with. They are part of my family too, as protective of me as my own brothers, they are the sisters I never had.

When I go to New England in the summer to visit, I visit my family, and I visit my friends, and I also visit my friends' families, because the reality is that in some ways, they are just as much my family, as my real family.

This fictive family is what I have really been missing here. The Easter celebrations with a mesh of people who don't look like they belong together, but do. The protective fathers and brothers, who protect you, as they protect their own daughters and sisters. I miss the older brothers who take you snowmobiling and go slower than they normally would because they know you are on the back and don't want to freak you out. I miss the sisters and moms, who laugh as they introduce you to the art of milking cows, and explain that it's okay to drink it without pasteurization. I miss the cousins who help you break into a locked room through a window to save the wedding dress, in pajamas, all while laughing so hard you are crying.

And just as these people have been fictive family to me, my family has been fictive family to others, inviting bachelors over to be a part of family dinners, making sure the grandparents with no kids or grandchildren around joined us for holidays. My mom is a notorious source of advice. I can't tell you how many times people have said "Cate I'm buying a new sewing machine, can I have your mom's number to talk to her?" or "Cate can I talk to your mom about how she handled... when you guys were kids?"

Arwen often says "I'll come pick you up at Brenda's, I want to see her anyway." My Aunt will often inquire about Arwen. They have become fictive family.

In Kentucky the biological family is an incredibly strong force, and that is not a bad thing, but it is much less common for people to invite outsiders into that unit.

I am thankful for this insight, a name to something I have been trying to explain for some time.

The Bicycle Horn

Yesterday I went to visit a friend who had just recently gone through major surgery. She is in a lot of pain, and having to be cared for by others constantly.

For this self sufficient, independent, confident single woman, this has been difficult, and will continue to be difficult for a few more weeks.

Of course this brought us to the topic of community, and how it's at times like this that you realize who your true friends are, who your true community is. Who are the people who will be there for you when you call frantically to tell that you have less than a week to prepare for major surgery? Who are the people who will have those hard conversations with you? You know, like what you would want if something went wrong in surgery? Would you want your organs donated?

She had the conversation with her friend. Then she went into surgery, knowing it was not good, and then it was worse than she thought it was going to be.

Her first night home from the hospital, she needed help, her friend (and her friend's husband) were asleep in another room and couldn't hear her. The next day they went out and bought her one of those really loud bicycle horns, and put it by her bed, they didn't want her to have to be in that situation again.

Everyone who has come by to visit her has signed the horn, a physical representation of her community, coming together in her time of need, to answer her calls for help.

I think this is a great representation of how the body of Christ should work.

This past Sunday, my pastor preached about community. He talked about the Romanian orphanages during communism, how there were basically warehouses of kids with only their basic physiological needs met, food and water. They had no interactions with people, and they had failure to thrive.

He talked about how we as Christians need interaction with people, that we need to be connected to people. That spiritually we will fail to thrive if we don't.

There are times when I've pondered this exact set of circumstances my friend finds herself in. Living far from family, I have wondered who would come to be with me at the hospital, were I in a similar situation. I was once in a small group, thinking that I had connected, and then after a series of events realized that they wouldn't be there for me. I had given and given and given, but when some small but significant needs in my life arouse, I blew my bicycle horn. The problem was that no one was listening, they heard, they just didn't acknowledge. It's like they heard the horn in the middle of my night, and turned over and went back to sleep. Because they ignored the call, they didn't have to address the clearly communicated need.

I am fully aware that ultimately no person or group of people can meet all the needs in my life. And there are some needs that can only be fulfilled by our Lord. But Jesus calls us to be His hands and His feet to a dying world, we have to start by being His hands and feet to those around us.

Sometimes it's a lot easier to worry about the dying orphans in some far off land and throw money at them than to roll up our sleeves and get our hands and feet dirty with and for the people who are physically present in our lives.

Being in that small group was a very difficult time in my life, and I hung on to those facades of relationship longer than I should have, because I really wanted to be part of that community, and because I didn't really have any other community here. Eventually I chose to move on, they simply didn't have space for me. They were very quick to ask me to give physically and emotionally on a regular basis, but completely unwilling to allow me to receive when I was in need.

I have since found healthy community elsewhere, but I remember that time and think about it sometimes because I don't want to go through it again, and I don't want others to go through it, especially if there is a way I can prevent it.

I've seen Christians fail to thrive, because they lacked community, or were in destructive community.

Community, healthy community at least, takes time to develop, it doesn't happen overnight. It also takes effort, spending time with people, helping them through hard circumstances, being vulnerable yourself. Being in community is not always nice and clean and pretty. We are human, it's just part of the deal.

For me, it's much easier to hear other people blowing their bicycle horn and respond than it is for me to pick up the horn and blow it myself. Being vulnerable and expressing need is not something that comes easy to me. Having been through that experience has made it harder for me to be vulnerable. I have had to force myself to connect with people. It has at times left me wondering "is this going to turn out like it did last time?"

The more I have thought about this over the week, the more I have realized, that each of us has to be willing to both blow our bicycle horn when we are in need, and get out of bed when someone else is blowing theirs and respond to the need. That is the only way true community can be established. And each time we respond to the needs of others, we sign their horn, a stamp on their life that God is still faithful, that He provides through His people.

Truth Be Told

This past Sunday in my adult Bible fellowship class, AKA Sunday school, we continued our study of the book of James. We have been going through the book a couple verses at a time and will continue to work our way through the book for a while. This past Sunday we were looking at James 1:19-22, a section where James uses a modified version of the sandwich approach.

The sandwich approach is a coaching technique in which the coach praises the player, gives constructive criticism, and then praises the player again. The idea of the sandwich approach is that the player will not hear the criticism unless he or she first knows that the coach cares about the player.

In James 1:19, he calls his audience "my beloved brothers," he is telling them that he loves them. And then, because he loves them, he goes on to tell them some hard truths. He tells them to be quick to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger. He also tells them to put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness.

I don't know about you, but if James, the brother of Jesus was telling me those things, I probably would be squirming in my seat, a little uncomfortable. Even though I wouldn't necessarily be stoked about what was being said, I would know that James loved me as a sister, he says that first, before he says anything else.

As I got to thinking about this passage, I started thinking about who I have in my life that loves me enough to tell me the truth. Who cares enough to tell me the things that they know will make me squirm, but that they know I need to hear?

That thought of course led to the wonder, are the friends that are unwilling to tell me hard truths, unwilling to do anything but agree with me all the time, unwilling to risk rejection or the friendship because I might not like what they have to say really that good of friends?

Proverbs 27:17 says "Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another."

I don't know that we as Christians can sharpen each other, propel each other on to deeper relationships with the Lord if we don't sometimes in love tell each other the truth.

I am thankful for the people in my life who are willing to tell me the things I don't want to hear, after they remind me that they love me, because it's only in the telling and changing that both they and I can grow more like Christ.

The Journey

In March of 2002 my old Bible was falling apart. It was a hard cover Student Bible, the cover had fallen off and been duct taped back on a bunch. The cover had been covered in orange construction paper and had stickers on it, mainly for the purpose of taking it back and forth easier to places where taking a Bible isn't easy.
I decided it was time for a new copy of my favorite book.
I bought a blue leather NIV study Bible.
It was shiny and beautiful. It was hard to navigate compared to my old student Bible. There were no notes in the margins, no favorite underlined verses. It didn't flip to favorite sections easily.
Over time, as I journeyed through life with it, it broke itself in. It's sections got underlined in various colors of ink, pages got dog eared. It has traveled with me all over the country, it has been on a mission trip to South America. It made the emotional move from undergrad to grad school, and my parents moving back to the States for good. It made another move, from grad school in Michigan to my first real job in Kentucky, and from one church to another. It has been there for me when "friends" weren't really very friendly. It has been there when life was hard. It has been there when life has been really awesome. It has been thrown in backpacks, and shoved in suitcases. In fact there isn't any trip or any experience that the blue leather Bible hasn't literally traveled with me through.

Over the last year or so, it has really started to fall apart. The cover started to come off, and was glued back on, with rubber cement, and then again with super glue. It was glued back together and put in a vice.

Several weeks ago, a section came unattached from the binding. Then shortly after that, the binding split apart.

Then this past week the cover came off again.

As I was laying in bed this past week reading, I realized that Bible was ready for retirement, and it made me sad.

I thought about all the experiences that I, and there for the book, have been through. Missing friends, confusing relationships, big overwhelming decisions, great joys, great sorrows, all kinds of tears.

The thought of having to choose a new one, and start all over with stiff unmarked pages is actually a little intimidating. But like every journey, no matter how long it is, there is a time when it ends, and eventually you wind up back home.

A Marriage Like Theirs

Recently a long time family friend, a lifelong mentor in my life, posted this in a Facebook note.

"It is harder to live the Christian life at home than elsewhere. Husbands can be more courteous to other women than their wives. Wives can give more deference to other men than their husbands. Familiarity breeds contempt or at least disrespect. We take each other for granted. The Christian home is the outpost of Christianity. God places us in this environment to represent him here on earth.
If someone asked me, "How much does Christ love the church?" could I point to you? Could I say, "look at how he loves his wife"? If someone asked me, "How does the church submit to Christ?" could I point to you? Could I say, "look at how she submits to her husband"?" - Mrs. Cindi

I am grateful for the examples passed down to me, from couples who have been a part of my life for longer than I can remember.

Even though I am not married yet, I have some definite ideals about what I want my marriage to look like and not look like, when and if God finally brings that into my life.

Most of those ideals come from examples that have been lived out in front of me, both the good, and the bad.

First of course are my parents, the hilarious people that they are. My parents are some of the most giving people I know, my mom is emotionally generous, whereas my dad is always willing to give of his hard work. Growing up he was always fixing something, or building something. My parents make a good team. For example, when my parents host events at their house (which they do often, and always have) my dad is the man behind the vacumm, cleaning and organizing, and putting up enough folding tables. My mom is the one in the kitchen, the mastermind behind the food (though my dad contributes to the cooking also). My mom is the creative one, who has ideals, my Dad is the organized one who has the plan to make it happen. As parents, they were a united front. It was a regular occurrence in our house that we kids would ask for permission to do or have something, and the response was "Go ask your mother/father." or "What did your mother/father say?" When they were making decisions about us kids, they typically made them together. This doesn't mean that they always agreed, or never had arguments, but to them it was important to be on the same page about things. My dad always, but especially since we have moved back to the states has been protective of my mom and her emotional well being, allowing her to be the emotionally generous. My mom is also the first one to point out the great things about my dad, like when he is hammering on a project in the basement at 5:30 in the morning and the rest of us would like to sleep. Like I said previously, my parents didn't always agree, but they typically had/have their disagreements behind closed doors, not in front of us kids or others who happen to be around.

Beyond my parents there were several other couples who shaped my view of marriage in a positive manner, all of them were involved in the fellowship I grew up in.

Burt and Cindi are a few years younger than my parents, and were heavily involved in our youth activities. Burt is a helicopter pilot and Cindi stayed home with their three boys, and now currently with the three daughters that the Lord literally plopped in their laps, just when they thought they were done with parenting young ones. So they have 3 sons in or out of college, and three daughters who are not yet teenagers. Cindi and Burt have always been the go with the flow kind of couple, who love to have people stop by, the more the merrier, there are countless numbers of kids that grew up with their kids that count them as a second set of parents. Cindi and Burt are the kind of couple who view another person at the door as just another member to welcome to the family. At the same time, Cindi and Burt are unwavering in their commitment to the Lord. They are truly unashamed of the Gospel. They are willing and do share with anyone who will listen. I appreciate the prayerfulness with which Cindi approaches mentoring. I appreciate the transparency, just ask her how she came to know the Lord. It was frequent that she told me about decisions she made as a young adult that she wished she hadn't. I am thankful for the wisdom she imparted to me as a teenager and college student, and I still value the advice she gives today. The fall of my freshman year of college was a difficult one, at the end of the semester I got the news that the first of the 3 girls would be coming to live with Cindi and Burt, I knew that Cindi had always wanted a daughter. I arrived home just a few days after Cindi arrived home with the newborn. I vividly remember calling to ask if I could come meet the new princess, I would not stay long. I knew they were jet lagged, and exhausted, and having to quickly adjust to a huge life change, scrounge up baby supplies in a country where they were largely unavailable. "Yes" Cindi said, "I want to see you, please come, you didn't even need to call." I shouldn't have been surprised, and my mom shouldn't have been surprised when it was hours later that I ended up back at our house.

Dan and Pat are the cute couple that are so cute that you probably want to vomit, except that they are just so cute. Dan and Pat I have also known all my life. As long as I have known them Dan has always referred to his wife as Sunshine. Not "she is my sunshine" but literally he uses it instead of her name, as in "I don't know what Sunshine has planned, let me check with her first." To see Dan and Pat is to see them holding hands. Again, I know their life has not always been easy, they got married as teenagers, I think Pat was 16 and Dan was 18. They also didn't know the Lord when got married, that came later. Four daughters fairly close in age, including a set of twins, and 12? grandchildren later, they are still married, still totally in love, still completely grace filled. Pat is the kind of person who always makes sure to remind you that you are loved. I don't think I have ever been in her presence without her saying as we are parting ways, "Cate we love you." I have never ever ever ever heard a harsh word or tone ever come out of their mouths directed at each other. For that matter, I don't think I have ever heard a harsh tone come out of their mouth directed at anyone. I know there are things that they are passionate about, I know that there are things that make them angry, but never ever have I heard either of them criticize the other, not at church, not in small groups, not out to lunch with the ladies, not on a shopping trip. I have heard "oh Dan would love this" or "oh this would look good on Sunshine."

James and Cathy are the daughter and son-in-law to Pat and Dan. Cathy and her twin sister were occasionally my babysitters as a small child. Then James was my swim coach starting in about the 3rd grade. Cathy came to visit her parents when I was in the 5th grade. My friend Jennifer and I have very vivid memories of the moments they met at our swim meet. We as what, 12 year olds, got to watch James and Cathy court, fall in love, and eventually get married. James at the time was not a Christian, and I know at one point Cathy told him that she couldn't continue the relationship because of that, I know because she told me once when were having a lengthy discussion about dating several years later. I know that when James came to know the Lord, and started attending our fellowship, he didn't immediately tell Cathy, he wanted her to know that he really truly had made the decision because he was convicted of his need for salvation. I watched as they married, and were pregnant with their first child on the first anniversary. I spent a lot of time watching their kids and teaching them to swim on breaks from school when I was back at home. I have had the unbelievable opportunity through my high school and college years to watch as James has grown from a new Christian into the spiritual leader of their family. I have also had the immense opportunity to watch Cathy, an independent and strong woman, step aside and allow him to lead, and respect his decisions for their family. Cathy and James are the kind of people who lead a pretty fast paced life, always up for the next adventure, with their 5 kids in tow, and now as they have gotten older, sometimes leading the way.

Byron and Kay Taylor have also known me pretty much my whole life. And now I am fortunate enough to live just a few hours drive from them. Byron is the kind of husband who gets upset if his wife is doing some sort of physical labor that she should not be, like moving heavy objects. I'm not kidding, he will say "Kay leave that in the truck, I will do it." Last summer I was visiting them at their farm for a long weekend, Kay was talking about how the last days of Byron's mother's life, they all took turns sitting by her bedside. She told me how special that time was to her, especially because she got to spend time alone with Byron's mother, telling her what an amazing husband he has been to her, how blessed she has been to be his wife. I can't think of anything a dying mother would want to hear about than the praises of a son she has raised.

There are other couples, this isn't an exhaustive list.

None of these couples are the type to randomly or frequently make statements on Facebook (and they all have Facebook)about how wonderful their spouse is, for all the world to see and read. They don't need to do that, they live it.

On the other hand, there are countless numbers of couples I know, that I would not describe in these ways. I have seen and heard women loudly criticize their husbands, with and without them present at Bible studies and small groups. I have seen the look of complete disgust on the face of wives as they glare at their husband.

I am at that age were many of my married friends are at the point in their marriages where statistically, if they are going to get divorced, it's happening right now.

I shared Mrs. Cindi's comment with two friends this week. One of them said, "I'd rather be single for the rest of my life than not have a marriage where we are striving to represent Him here on earth.

I couldn't agree more.

Unlikely friends

A year ago, if you had told me that Christi and I would be good friends, I probably would have chuckled. Not in a mean way, just a "huh, that would be weird" sort of manner.

But I think God knew that we would need each other.

A little background, Christi and I had been going to the same church for about 5ish years. We had been in the same small group for a while, I don't really even know, maybe 2 years. We were the 2 women in the group not married. We were the only 2 women working full time jobs. But we never really connected. I couldn't tell you why. We never hung out outside of church or the small group. We never arranged to meet up for lunch.

I couldn't tell you where Christi lived.
I couldn't tell you what her favorite foods were.
I couldn't even tell you if she liked chick flicks or not.
I couldn't even tell you when her birthday is without looking at facebook.

Pretty much all I could tell you about Christi was that we prayed a lot about her teeth, her brother and his wife had a daughter and live far away, and that she is an elementary school music teacher. The end.

And then I left that church.

And then I left that small group.

And I didn't spend a moment wondering what Christi was up to.

And then she sent me a message.
The message really. The very awkward message that said "Hey, I just broke up with my boyfriend, I'm sure you've heard. And I feel like a bad friend because I haven't talked to you since you left. But could you meet me to talk? If you think I'm a jerk and never want to talk to me again, that's fine too."

I was caught a little of guard, but I responded. I told her that I didn't think she was a jerk, I didn't know she had broken up with her boyfriend, and that sure we could meet for dinner, but it had to be short, I had to pack and leave for a trip, you know that whole work thing.

I was nervous, what did she want to talk to me about? Would we even have anything to talk about? I mean our lives were so different you know...
We go to different churches
We have different friends
She has dated 2 different guys in the last 5 years, I have dated no one
She is a music teacher and oboe player
I am an athletic trainer, and I like to run, and I like sports in general

Would we sit there in silence and stare at each other?

I didn't want to gossip, I didn't want to rant. I prayed "God, um, yeah, please give me wisdom, and please help me to say and not say the things that need to be said and not said." Beyond that I didn't know what else to pray. "oh and that God would comfort Christi through this breakup."

So we met for dinner, and she shared with me that she was going through some of the same awful things I had been through.

I think I told her something profound like "yeah I know, it sucks" If I remember correctly, we both shed a few tears.
And we stayed until we were pretty much kicked out of the restaurant because they were trying to close. Who needs clothing and a toothbrush on a road trip anyway right?

I invited Christi to come to my new church, and my new Sunday school class the following Sunday, I wanted her to know that I wasn't encouraging her to make the same choices as I was, but that sometimes perspective is good, and her ex boyfriend was scheduled to preach at her church, so you know, might be a good idea to take a week off.

A few days later I picked her up, at her house, yes I had to use my GPS to get there. Irony, I thought, considering that we'd been in the same small group for a long time.
We left church feeling like the sermon had been directly for us.

We started randomly texting each other things like "hey what are you doing tonight, want to watch chick flicks?"
Or "hey I know you were suppose to have a long day at work, how did it go."

And then one night we met up for dinner after work, and she told me the whole story of her adoption.
And all of a sudden I realized, "hey Christi and I are...friends"

And then my birthday came and we went out to lunch.

And then her birthday came and she invited me to a dinner party thrown in her honor by one of her former coworkers. It was a blast, and I laughed so hard I cried, for over an hour. I also learned that she loves pineapples.

I feel that I would be leaving something out of this story if I left out the part about the fact that it has been awesome to have someone to encourage me in my faith, some one I can send random quotes or Bible verses that I have read that encouraged me, to a person lives in my same small town, and understands my life.
It's awesome to have a friend to get together with who wants to talk about a really good sermon they heard, or how important it is for us as the body of Christ to actually pray for each other.

And when I think about the fact that Christi and I are friends, I think about the fact that God knows what we need, and always delivers, not necessarily in the way we expected.