Old Friends and a Pair of Pee Pants

When was the last time you pulled over for a full stop to catch your breath?

In the old days of telegraphs, a “stop” denoted the period at the end of a sentence, a place to halt, and gather breath. When a train comes to a full stop, it allows passengers the opportunity to stand and stretch, de-board to walk and to catch the view. Travelers take stock of how long they’ve journeyed and how much further they have to go.

When was your last full stop?

In the gospels, Jesus spent time with His Father daily before facing the crowds. Sometimes He spent all night after doing the same. At other times, He pulled away with just His posse, His crew, His closest followers, and still other times, He withdrew even more with just Peter, James, and John.

Jesus, in His humanity, sought and cultivated friendships.

God designed us to live in community, to seek relationships, to thrive within them. Vital, even when that community is populated with broken, faulted saints who were only granted that title through grace.

Recently, I’ve pulled aside for some full stop weekends.

I love a bunch of messy people and they love me back, despite ourselves. Too often, I take them for granted and I hope they do the same to me because they know they can. Our friendships are a given after all these years and sometimes they have to endure long times without rich contact – similar to when a spacecraft orbits the moon and there is a necessary break in communication with Houston.

Maybe we’re orbiting a new job, a move, a change in family structure, an illness, or depression. Other times we’re navigating strains on the friendships themselves brought about by conflict, life transitions, or just malaise.

My friends alternately delight and irritate me. We’ve known one another too long not to know one another’s foibles, bad habits, and weaknesses. We’ve witnessed each other’s strengths, triumphs, and achievements and ground one another with anchored friendships that don’t become overly dismayed by failure nor overly impressed by success.

Friends make good mirrors.

I stepped off a plane this weekend, having dumped an iced tea into my lap just prior to take off, and prayed that miraculously the brown tea would somehow dry white on the white fabric. I explained what happened to my waiting friend who took one look and remarked, “Yeah, those have to go. It definitely looks like pee.”

Ahh, the refreshing frankness of old friends.

Arriving at the event, another friend embraced me informing me I had green stuck in my teeth. Another remarked, “Wow, you look like you went through the ringer. This humidity is no friend to your hair, is it?”

I laughed because all of this was the pure joy of being with people who have become kin. We share a freedom of relationship because we’ve traveled together for many miles. We gathered to celebrate. A daughter’s wedding. Joy. Passages. Every tease was a way of saying, “I know you and I love you. There’s freedom in our friendship.”

During the meal, a new acquaintance asked about my tagline, “Disturber of Hobbits.” Before I could open my mouth, my friends excitedly explained its significance, what it says about my writing, and how it connects with my upcoming book. I was caught off guard, choked up even, at their enthusiasm for my work and the energy they invested in explaining me. It’s a moment I’ll treasure. While they were talking, I believed anew in the vision for my work.

We’ve all hurt one another through the years. Mostly small hurts but some of significance. Jesus led us through the hurts to forgiveness and I learned that each of these friendships is a microcosm of His hope for the church. We love, we hurt, we forgive, we love again. We become family.

For me now, each gathering is a foreshadowing of the day I’ll sit with these friends around God’s great banquet table. We’ll catch one another’s glances and smile at the wonder of arriving, finally, safely, home.

Peter, James, and John knew Jesus as He walked along the dusty roads pressed in by demanding crowds and weary from a day of healing and preaching. He’d seen them cranky. He knew they argued about who was greatest. He witnessed all the times they got it wrong. But, they were also witness to His glory at the transfiguration. He watched Peter get out of the boat and step toward Him on the seas. He knew the poetry in John’s soul.

Our friends are there to know us, love us, support us, challenge us, and to celebrate with us. They are there to tell us we look like we’ve wet our pants and they’re there to remind us there is more to us than our shortcomings. When we gather with friends, we sense the ancient echo of our former glory in the garden and we catch a whiff of the feast prepared for us by our Father in Heaven.

On the night He was betrayed, knowing what was about to come, Jesus looked at the broken, faulted, clueless followers gathered ‘round Him and said, “No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.” John 15:15 Jesus loved with the vision of that banquet table in His eyes.

When was the last time you pulled over for a full stop to catch your breath?

Do it now. Call a friend. Even if it’s been years, make the call.

Catch the breeze flowing through the door of Heaven propped open when Jesus gave His life for us, His friends. Enjoy a foretaste of the feast prepared for us to share with Him and with our friends who have all become kin, the family of God, in that place where we’ll raise our glasses forevermore.

And if you’ve yet to become a friend of Jesus Christ, what are you waiting for? Come to the table. You’re invited to feast there forever! Not sure how to take this step? Send me a note and I’ll  reach out.

Already friends with Jesus? When was the last time you took a full stop to be with Him? Why not do it right now?