This is the seventh in a multi-part series about friendship. You can read the first post here, the second post here, the third here, the fourth here, the fifth here, and the sixth right here.
This is the point. The point is that life is hard, and we are lucky to have people to journey with; especially if they are the people who knew us when we were young and who can remind us of who we were. We cherish those people for being witnesses to our youth and for knowing parts of our stories we would otherwise forget. Most of all, we appreciate that they help us remember that we are unconditionally loved and welcomed by God.
Do you remember your high school yearbooks? All the promises, flowery language, forever undying eternal declarations of camaraderie? “Stay Sweet, Don’t ever change, Have a great summer?”
I don’t even remember what Robyn wrote. I was going to look it up, but then I realized that it doesn’t matter what she wrote 25 years ago.
I don’t remember a word she wrote in my high school yearbook.
I do remember that her house was always open to me, anytime of the day or night.
I remember when she drove with me all the way to Long Beach to get the dress I absolutely had to have for the Homecoming dance.
I remember when she walked me through my first love and subsequent broken heart.
I remember when she stood next to me on my wedding day.
I remember that she was my biggest fan, when I got the lead in the school play, when I got a new job, when I got pregnant.
I remember when she dropped everything to come watch my 2-year old because our babysitter flaked and I had to go to on a trip for work.
I remember the gingerbread creations she made for my kids at holiday time.
I remember when I told her things I’d never told anyone else and she didn’t walk away.
I think that somehow, our friendships show us the beginning of what it means to love.
They can be like guideposts pointing to a love we can barely comprehend. Not a soft, overly emotional love, gushing with nostalgia/sentimentality that comes out at the 20-year class reunion when you’ve had too many Mai Tai’s, but a love that carries us when we can’t go on alone. A love that doesn’t shame or ridicule or judge but that says, “Hey, come over here. Take this seat next to me. It’s okay. I’m glad you’re here.”
That kind of love looks like hands that touch the sick, like looking out for the hungry, like refusing to shame or condemn. A love that is so committed to breaking down the walls between people that it eats with tax collectors and shares a drink with a Samaritan woman. A love that doesn’t forget and doesn’t let go.
That’s the love Robyn showed me, and the love David showed Mephibosheth. It’s love that can change your life.
I’ll say a teeny bit more about love and Robyn and God next time, and then we’ll (finally!) move on to other topics. Thank you for taking this trip with Robyn and me, and with David and Jonathan and Mephibosheth. It’s good to have companions on the way.
* “All For Love” refers to one of the songs that instantly transports me back to high school. Nancy Wilson from Heart sings it as part of the soundtrack of the movie “Say Anything.” Join me in appreciating lace gloves and trenchcoats with shoulderpads here.
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