Category: Friendship

Endless Conversations

When my college roommate and I manage to arrange a date for lunch together, it’s never soon enough. Anticipation builds long before the day arrives. By the time I reach the designated restaurant and we’re finally face-to-face, words tumble out. Sometimes we struggle to take turns talking and listening, but we do it with joy.

What do we talk about? Everything! Our families. What God has been doing in our lives. Stress. Our aches and pains. Our joys. Church. Politics. The food. What’s eating up all our time.  Reminiscences. Hopes. Prayer requests (if we haven’t figured them out by now).

We consult “don’t forget” lists and jot down things to remember to pray about as we talk.

Sometimes, just as we’re getting ready to wind down and pay the check, we veer off on a tangent, reluctant to leave anything out. Occasionally, we have to settle for “remind me to tell you about such and such”… or “I’m going to try and remember to send you that video…”.

It’s messy.

It’s wonderful.

We definitely don’t do it often enough.

Whatever happens, I know I’m loved and that she’ll remember to pray for me, informed by that messy encounter known as fellowship.

I worry less after leaving some of my burdens with this dear friend.

No matter if she forgets half of what I’ve said. The Holy Spirit the third party at our table and heard the prayer that was our messy conversation. That same Spirit will prompt my friend to pray for me when I need it. And nudge me on her behalf, as well.

It’s messy.

It’s wonderful.

Messy and wonderful like my time with Jesus can be.

When I’m with the Lord, a jumble of words can tumble out, and I don’t have to worry about His reaction.

I can talk about anything with Jesus. My family and friends. How I feel about His work in my life. My worries. About getting old. What I’m excited about. Church stuff. Politics. My worries, again! Strength and wisdom to do what I need to do.  The memory prompted by a smell, a sight, or a song. Hopes. All punctuated with occasional “I love You’s.”

It’s wonderful.

And no, it’s not Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, and Supplication.

It’s messy.

Even so, I know He loves to hear my voice, since He’s called me His friend.

I want to cultivate more messy conversations with the Lord.

Yes, I need to work on listening as much as I talk.

I’ll keep talking as I learn to listen.

The Dog Walker Sings for Joy

No, not “dings,” I wrote, “sing.” I started writing this post in my head, and when I hit the keyboard, auto-correct dictated my first line for me! But it couldn’t have been more appropriate…

I won’t start with the ding, though.

It’s been months since our Sunday service was snowed out and our pastor issued the #phil4challenge in his Facebook Live sermon. We had 21 days of devotions reminding us to: choose to be joyful, pray with thanksgiving, think on noble things, and repeat daily. Of course, the “repeat daily” meant the Lord would be assigning plenty of homework! “Anybody can grow in grace”–even me. Even you.

But first, we make mistakes–dings.

Last Sunday morning I had a lot on my plate and left Angie at the sitter’s house before going to church. After church, I wasn’t hungry, so I thought this might be a great time to strip the kitchen floor. Enough with the waxed-on dirt! It couldn’t take more than an hour, could it?

For inspiration, I started playing the long-time AWOL Young Messiah tape I found.  Great beat and immortal words. I opened the front, back, and deck doors and moved most of the stuff out of the kitchen and into the hall. I re-read the directions to the stripping product. Chemical-resistant shoes? Who knows? I ran upstairs and put on a pair of rubber-soled shoes I didn’t like. Mindy the cat was safely ensconced on my pillow. Goggles? I had some downstairs but didn’t want to bother. I needed my reading glasses, and they have big lenses. Good to go! Ding!

mop and bucketApply generously. I used dollar store mops suggested by the clerk at Home Depot.

Ding! Don’t allow to dry before mopping up. Or something like that. I minced over the floor and worked from windows to doorway, hoping I wasn’t leaving tracks with my Bigfoot shoes.

Whew! That smell is strong. Better turn on both ceiling fans. Upstairs, Mindy had left the pillow. Under the bed. Would the fumes be less toxic for her closer to the ground? Not sure.

Ding! Ding! Do not allow to dry before mopping up. The stuff sure was tacky. And the fumes were strong.

One of God’s growth lessons for me has been asking for help. Little 9-pound Mindy needed help even more than I did. I should get her out of the house asap. Remembering the time I’d mixed cleaning products when I cleaned the bathtub and felt mega-woozy, I realized I needed help too. I mopped a few more inches and caved in to the Lord.

I called three people and struck out. Mopped some more. Still tacky.

Call three, my RN friend with the chemistry teacher husband, finally called back. As they had done many times before, they changed the agenda for their day and came to my rescue. While I waited or their arrival, I called poison control. They could only help if something were wrong with me. Thank You, Lord, not yet.

What a relief to have someone else to help me. My nurse friend insisted that we work on opening the windows I was convinced were painted shut. Success. Much better for Mindy upstairs.

It turned out this speed reader had misread the directions! Do not allow to dry before rinsing two times with warm water. We headed out to Home Depot for advice. The flooring salesman, despite the fact we weren’t going to buy anything, listened to our tale patiently and that was about it. Nice guy, though.

My friends encouraged me to eat lunch. We stocked up on dollar store mops and rubber gloves. I sent them home. What amazing friends. Thank You, Lord! I hope I can return the favor someday.

Mopped some more.

Seeing the front door propped open and kitchen furnishings sitting in the foyer, a passing friend inquired if I was okay–or was I moving? Thank You, Lord, for surrounding me with concerned friends.

At least the stuff dries quickly, even if the yellow stains on my floor were still there! With just enough energy to put everything back in place and stumble to the car, I texted the long-suffering dog sitter again. “On my way. Finally.” Yet another friend. We’d shared about more than dogs. Thank You, Lord.

Thank You that I survived the fumes. Thank You that I have such great friends. Thank You that even I  can learn to reach out. 

I don’t think I walked Angie that afternoon, but I definitely sang in the car. Songs of thanksgiving. I’d been protected, and I’d learned to reach out for help.

Don’t wait as long as I often do to reach out for help! The results are worth singing about!

Anybody can grow–in grace!