A little help from my friends

When I was a latch-key kid, I would hurry home from the bus stop, call my mom to reassure her I had made it home, then turn on the TV. One of my favorite shows was about to come on, and I would just have time to feed our dog as the theme song played.

          “What would you do if I sang out tune?
          Would you stand up and walk out on me?
          Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song
          I will try not to sing out of key, yeah
          Oh, baby I get by with a little help from my friends
          By with a little help from my friends.”

I later learned it was Joe Cocker’s cover of a Beatles’ tune that opened every episode of The Wonder Years. I just remembered loving the story of an ordinary boy with an ordinary family. There were squabbles, friendship, first love, and everything in between. It was life, translated and broadcast in a way that was sometimes more honest than the stuff we get with all the “reality” shows we have now.

This was the song that came to mind this past week as I had a little “procedure” at the hospital, their code word for surgery, just like “minor discomfort” means pain. I had mentioned it to a few people in my church as well as my friends and family. Mostly for their prayer support since my mother was coming to town to take care of me. But what continued to astonish me was the response, “If there’s anything you need, just let us know.”

And they meant it. I could see the sincerity shining from each person who offered food, childcare, lawn care, or just a hand to hold, in addition to their prayers on my behalf. In our American culture, it’s easy to fall for the myth that we’re all supposed to be self-made men and women who pull ourselves up by our boot straps to earn everything we have. That’s just never the case. Yes, hard work can pay off, but there’s also a lot to be said for inherited opportunities such as married, educated parents who chose to have a child or the socioeconomic status of your family of origin. Those things are going to offer opportunities for one child that may not come easily for another.

None of us do life alone. That’s just not how we’re made. God created us for relationship – with God and with each another. The echoes of our American mindset can be seen in our faith when we emphasize the personal relationship with our God over the relationship between a believer and their community of faith. Yes, my relationship with God is important, but God is going to make God’s self known in my life through the hands and feet of my brothers and sisters in Christ. Our spiritual journeys are poorer when we go it alone.

“If there’s anything you need, just let us know.” It can be hard to take up the offers, to admit that we don’t have it all together and figured out, and that we need someone’s help. It can wound our pride. It can make us worry that others will think less of us. It can give us the opportunity to feel vulnerable when we’d rather pretend to have it all under control.

This past Sunday was the second Sunday in Lent and if you follow the lectionary, we had the opportunity to follow Nicodemus as he comes to Jesus under the cover of darkness to ask questions of this young rabbi. He gets confused and he misunderstands, but he has the audacity to admit that, even as a Pharisee and a leader of the Jews, he has questions. While he may not yet have faith in Jesus, he has faithful curiosity, which is a great start.

Which leads to one of the best, most often quoted scriptures in our Bible: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life” (John 3:16). It can be hard to hear a familiar verse say anything new, but consider this – God doesn’t ask you if you need anything. God doesn’t ask if you need to be loved. God doesn’t ask if you need to be saved. God loves you, loves everyone, whether you like it or not. And that’s good news.

Looking for my person

This is an awkward thing to share, but this Lenten discipline of introspection and reflection that I’ve taken up has led me to it, so here goes. I’m putting myself out there this week. This may sound like nothing out of the ordinary, since I’m a giant extrovert, but this is mindfully different this week. I’m looking for my person. If you’re familiar with Grey’s Anatomy, you already know what I mean. It’s the relationship between Meredith and Cristina. Here’s what this sounds like:

Cristina: I think you and Derek will make it. You will make it work.
Meredith: Are you just telling me what I wanna hear?
Cristina: I'm your person. I am on your side.

Cristina: Mer, why do you care what I think?
Meredith: Because you're my person!

Cristina: The clinic has a policy. They wouldn't let me confirm my appointment unless I designated an emergency contact person. Someone to be there in case and...to help me home after. Anyway I put your name down, that's why I told you I'm pregnant. You're my person.

Meredith: I am?

Cristina: Yeah, you are. Whatever.

Meredith: Whatever.

Cristina: He dumped me. [Meredith hugs Cristina] You realize this constitutes hugging?

Meredith: Shut up, I'm your person.

I’ve always been a person who had lots of great acquaintances, but very few close friends. From what I’ve heard, the best way to find a friend is to be a friend. And I’ve started to wonder if I stink at this because this friend has not appeared. Ok, so I don’t remember birthdays and I don’t call to talk very often, but I’ll keep up on Facebook and I’m incredibly loyal and I’ll pick you up at the airport. I’ll go to lunch and throw you a baby shower and be delighted when you call.

Part of what is prompting this is remembering my pregnancy with James. My super seminary friends had moved back to where they had come from and there was no one within a 100 mile radius who wanted to throw me a baby shower except the sweet folks of my church. Which was great, but different. So, whenever it’s time for round 2, I’d like to have a person that loves me enough to want to care for me before and after I have another baby. And we can walk with each other through all the other stuff that life will throw our way.

So I’m looking for a person I can go deep with. When I was in a spiritual growth group in seminary, the professor who led the group expressed her appreciation for my willingness to be vulnerable. That’s who I am, really. I’m willing to be vulnerable, to be honest, with others in hopes of having a true connection, a real relationship built on truth-telling and love. I want a soul sister, a best friend, a bestie, and BFFL – I'm a Meredith looking for a Cristina.

So, earlier this week, I went to coffee with a wonderful acquaintance. I’m always extra nervous when I do the 1-on-1 thing because it feels like dating. And I haven’t dated in almost 15 years. I get the same sort of inner monologue going on: “I’m making eye contact because I’m interested in what you’re saying…Oh goodness, am I staring?…We really seem to have a lot in common. Awesome!...Oh, she just mentioned something about a friend who lives closer than I do who also has a kid and they already hang out. Does she have room for another really good friend?” I’m really trying hard not to over-analyze because it just feels weird. 

To try to continue to put myself out there, today I took James, my adorable little icebreaker, and went to a play date with a group of moms I found on Meetup. It was a Valentine’s date at the park and I had made a batch of my super toddler veggie/fruit muffins to share. I felt good about not coming empty handed. They had changed the date from yesterday to today to better accommodate schedules, but the weather did not cooperate. And I wasn’t entirely sure about taking James out in it just so I can keep trying to find my person. But he woke up from nap in time and seemed game, so we bundled up and head out (and arrived 15 minutes late…).
 

The woman who organized it is also in my Zumba class, but it was still awkward as we stood there, trying to make small talk. We obviously haven’t gravitated toward one another before, so it was good when the other moms arrived and the kids got down to playing. I got compliments on the muffins. I gave compliments on other muffins. I made small talk with the other moms. James enjoyed the park and looking at the babies. We made Valentine’s cards; James liked the stickers. Then, after braving the cold and wind for about an hour, we made our good-byes. As we neared the car, James ran away, and I got to have my inner monologue wonder what the other moms thought as I chased him, corrected him, and put him in the car crying. Yikes…

Tomorrow we’ll try again. There’s another Meetup group that looks promising – a little more hip, a little more honest – and we’ll have a play date at a different park. It’s a little during James’s lunch time, so we’ll already have an out if it gets awkward. Here’s hoping…

Because I need a person. I’m not whining because I have a amazing husband. And in a lot of ways, he’s my person. But I have a lot of love and room for a really great friend in my life. I do have some really great friends…that live in other states. And seeing them 2-3 times a year doesn’t satisfy my need to have a person that shares my everyday life. Someone who can handle that I’m a mom/wife/pastor/woman who makes mistakes, has doubts, makes awesome muffins, tries hard, cries sometimes, laughs often, and is just a person, too.

Where have you found your best friend? How are you a good friend to others?

Because I love you, I may not always agree with you

Well, that’s putting it simply. I may not agree with lots of folks, but if I love you, you’re very likely to know it. I’m thinking about this in light of my own experiences and the political atmosphere of our country at the moment.

A few days ago when I was acutely feeling a lack of local friends, I asked my husband what the difference was between me and another acquaintance of ours, who makes friends easily wherever she goes. Not just run of the mill friends, either – these are feed you dinner, watch your kid, more like family friends. And my husband, who has made vows to be my loving friend for life, said, “You don’t suck up to people.” Pressed to explain further, it turns out that I’m honest with others; I don’t always say what they would like to hear (or keep my mouth shut to leave it a lie by omission).

So I’ve been mulling this over. A couple of weeks ago, I was teaching one of our older adult Sunday school classes at their invitation. The lesson was on Stephen, the first Christian martyr, one of the men chosen to help distribute food to widows when the apostles were getting too busy to make sure this was happening fairly (Acts 6-7). The account the author gives us of Stephen echoes that of Jesus in some powerful ways – a person doing good, witnessing to the good news of God, brought up on false charges and put to death.

The emphasis of the lesson was on being a witness. Now these folks are such excellent evangelists exhibiting such marvelous hospitality, that their problem is that their room is too full. So what could I say about being a witness? So I asked this question: Are there ever times when our positions on issues, the way we are witnesses for the smaller things, clouds the way we may be a witness for God?

And then I did it. I crossed the boundary. I named the elephant (and donkey) in the room and wondered aloud how our words and attitudes during a political season might undermine our witness to the good news. Are there things more important (namely, the reign of God) that should trump and inform how we are who we are in the world?

Afterwards, many of the class members thanked me, probably as much for my presence as for my lesson. I found myself saying that I wasn’t afraid to talk about hard issues with them because they know I love them and I know they love me.

So I guess that’s where I find myself today. When I love someone, when I really love them, I’m going to share all of myself with them. All of my thoughts, all of my feelings, all of it! Those who know me know that I have an independent streak a mile wide and another mile deep, but that’s, hopefully, balanced by my fierce loyalty. When I love someone, I love them for who they are and who they might become. I will defend them and pray for them. I will bring casseroles or watch your child or visit you in the hospital. Because I love you.

And because I love you, I may not always agree with you.

I’m working this out because I can point to an example right now of a wonderful couple that we know. And I love them. I’ve known them for years, but I know that they are never going to be the friends that I long for. Because I can’t keep my mouth shut, and even if I do, what I’m thinking is probably all over my face. And if I have to keep my mouth shut, for fear of offending or challenging, that’s probably not the friendship I really need.

So, in a season when tension and fear and anxiety are high while the outlets of social media feel anonymous, making it safe to be tacky and rude, let's try to be loving instead. Love your neighbor as you love yourself  (Leviticus 19:18, Matthew 19:19 and 22:39, Mark 12:31, Luke 10:27, Romans 13:9, Galatians 5:4, James 2:8). And as often as you may disagree with them, let them know/see/feel that you love them first.