Friends

Let me tell you what just happened to me.  I was walking down the hallway with a trembling lip and sad puppy eyes, when I ran into my friend Remy.  Here's how the conversation went:

Remy:  Hello Sarah!
Me:  *sniff* hi.
Remy:  What's up?
Me: (all trembly)  I missed dinner.  I was showering and I took too long, and now the dining room's closed and I can't even get milk for this little bag of granola I found in my beach bag. 
Remy:  (Full of concern) Oh, well I have some yogurt in my cabin.  How many would you like?  Two?
Me: One should be enough (pathetic coughing).
Remy:  You'll need two.  Wait here a minute and I'll get them.
(My sad eyes have gone all wide and hopeful.  If they'd given Oliver Twist a roasted duck when he asked for more porridge, he'd have looked very much like me right now.)
Remy: (returning from her cabin) Here they are.  I have some eggs on the shelf in my classroom, if you want to make yourself an egg.
Me:  (happy, but still a little pathetic)  Thank you so much!
Remy:  You would have done the same for me.
Me:  Yes, I would.

So here I sit at my computer, happily munching away at my granola, now fortified with two cups of yogurt and some dried cranberries I found in my cupboard (Score!), and I reflect on how much difference a good friend makes.  I really was close to tears tonight when I rushed upstairs to find the food already gone.  I hadn't eaten a legitimate meal all day.  We'd been at the beach, snacking here and there, while we went on hikes and played in the waves, until it was time to come home.  I was so dirty I couldn't bear the thought of touching plates of food before I cleaned up.  First, I had to hunt around for my soap, and then my towel wasn't in its usual place.  What with one thing and another, I just took too long.  It seemed all hope was lost, and then in stepped a friend with yogurt.  The day was good and saved.

Sometimes I spend so much time thinking about the Big Thoughts...how to keep the balance between telling the truth about what you believe and not sounding like a heartless know-it-all...what it really means to live well...whether it's better to let your students learn from their failures or to keep them from failing in the first place...etc.  I forget that life isn't lived in absolutes but in particulars.  It doesn't matter what I think about the nature of love if I can't bring myself to show any tangible sign that I love people.  I don't just know about friendship, I am a friend, and I have friends, and we show our friendship through our actions.  Some of them are big, like when you grieve with someone, and some are modest little things, like sharing your yogurt.  But they add up to something very beautiful. 

Jesus chose to die on the cross, and that was something he had to do by himself.  But there were friends who were with him along the way, like his mother Mary, and John the Apostle.  They didn't understand what was going on, or why, but they stayed with him until it was over.  That's special.  We don't often get to do things for God.  Usually it's the other way around.  But there are times when we have the unique opportunity to show our friendship to Him, times when we can bless the One who invented blessings (which blows my mind, when I think about it).  Maybe the chances come by more often than we realize.  Jesus did say that when you do something for "the least of these [his] brothers," you do it for him.  So the next time we have a chance to do something kind for someone who couldn't possibly pay us back (or maybe just isn't very likely to), we could think "Here you go, Friend.  Enjoy."  And we'd be part of a pattern of kindness that touches the very center and source of Life.  (That sounds dramatic, but I don't know how else to say it.)

How did I get to preaching?  I really only meant to share my satisfaction in having a real dinner when I thought I'd be stuck scrounging crushed granola bits and soy milk.  Ah well.

Happy Easter, friends!