Those Were the Days. Come to Think of it: These Are Too

This recent post at Beth Moore's LPM blog inspired this post at Sarah's In The Midst Of It which inspired me to want to add a few words to the discussion. I hope you'll take the time to click the links and read the posts and the comments. What I'm about to say will possibly make a smackerel of sense then. Possibly not, though, but as you are surely aware by now, that won't slow me down a lick.

Beth told a two-hankie story about her mom-buddy and how they raised their babies on shoestrings together and ended with a wedding and I'm a sucker for anything that ends with a wedding.

Sarah told a three-horkle (diet, caffeinated beverage taking the long way to the computer screen and keyboard - through my nose) story about deciding at the last minute not to sacrifice one of her children to the water-feature god at the local plant nursery and ended extolling the blessings of BFF:Mama-style.

Both posts started veritable comment-o-ramas. Transparent, insightful, inspiring and heartbreaking. That's where I want to pick up.

There were several commenters who wished for a Bridget (Sarah's friend) or a Johnnie (Beth's friend). I know whereof they speak.

In 1999, I was pregnant for the third time, happily raising my family on the outskirts of a medium-sized town of 80,000 or so. We lived on land that Gadget Man's grandfather had farmed and could see the homes of 5 relatives. Gadget Man grew up in that town, as did his father, grandfather, great-grandfather...you get the picture. I grew up moving every 1 to 2 years, house to house, town to town and state to state. I was certain that God had taken me through that upbringing so that I could fully appreciate and glory in raising my children on a homestead in southwest Oklahoma, and that I would dwell in peace in my little house on the prairie all the days of my life, amen.

There were a few of us gals at our little Independent Christian Church who had babies at the same time. If one of us was going to the grocery, she'd call the others to see if there was anything she could pick up. We lived life, loved each other and couldn't imagine a single day going by that we didn't call, stop by or meet up. We started the journey of home education the same year, and forged a trail unknown to any of us, knowing that we had all been called to train our children in this unusual way. Of these dear friends, Kelly was the sister of my heart.

As I'm sure you've surmised by my clever use of the past tense, a change it was a-comin'.

Kelly's husband got a FANTASTIC job in Corpus Christi (which my daughter called "Torkus Crispy"). Their family of 5 had lived in a two bedroom rental in the worst part of our little town, barely getting by from week to week. Kelly knew she was in that neighborhood because the people she was surrounded by probably didn't have anyone praying for them, by name, every day. So God put her there to do that and BOY, did she EVER! She fasted for the guy who walked home from the Wormy Dog staggering down the middle of their dark little street, cursing and crying. She never said one thing to me about wanting to live anywhere else in the world. Their family was determined to live, tithe and help support a missionary family on her husband's $17,000/year salary. I haven't seen them since they moved away, but I still call and email Kelly, and I can say with confidence that they are glorifying God in their abundance as they did in their paucity.

Gadget Man's company transferred him to Oklahoma City the same month Kelly's husband got his new job. We moved into a two bedroom patio home paid for by his company and I left my roomy, airy, window-y, wooded homestead to live near a major intersection in a large city with my two-and-a-third children. In a city of over a million people, I was all by myself. My phone didn't ring, and nobody stopped by with a Snickers and a Dr. Pepper just because I was on her mind when she was getting gas.

There was a lot I wasn't getting, that I had grown quite accustomed to. I prayed about it, I burned up the long distance lines and I searched the scriptures. We were visiting churches, so there was no church family to consult or console. My heart longed for the missing sisters in my daily existence. I missed their faces, their kids, their cooking, their Pampered Chef parties.

Time marched on. We found a church and made a few homeschool connections. Wonder Boy was born. There were people in our lives, but it wasn't the same.

I had given up finding another soul-level friend. One in a lifetime is certainly a blessing, and I praise God for the ways He taught me, corrected me and loved me through Kelly, and I came to terms with the fact that
things weren't going to be the same ever again.

As my friend Shawn is fond of saying, "It must have been Obvious Day at Camp Stupid."

I met Anne at the Christmas fellowship hosted by the homeschool group I was attending. We clicked, sort of, and she pursued a friendship and I wasn't in any position to be picky. We've been friends for 7+ years now, and it occurs to me that I haven't FOUND Kelly. I've become her.

I have had the honor and privilege of encouraging, exhorting, challenging, holding, carrying and blessing Anne the way Kelly did me. She called me after she called 911 when her son began having a seizure. I got there before the ambulance and stayed with her kids while she went with her son to the hospital. I listen, pray, fast, cry, and commiserate.

Now, rather than longing for things to go back to the way they were, I cherish the years Kelly and I had when she taught me not only THAT a friend loveth at all times, but HOW a friend loveth at all times. The purpose that God chose for our friendship was to sharpen and hone both of us so that He could love others through us as we put into practice the lessons of BFF:Mom-style we learned from each other. I'm a more grown-up, sensitive, pro-active friend. I'm a better tool in the hands of the Master, and I'm ever more devoted to participating with Him in the transformation of his beloved children into the image of His perfect Son.

Do you have a Kelly, Bridget or Johnnie? Glory to God! ARE you a Kelly, Bridget or Johnnie? If not, why not?