She stood outside my door, her hands holding these tiny books all prettied up. “They’re for you”, she said. She is a generous soul this woman almost 10 years my junior and half a foot taller. I knew what these books meant. Why she chose me to share them with. She was there when life was all turned up and I didn’t know if it would settle. She read the emails sent to her with the subject line: “I’m scared”. She listen, supported, prayed. Oh did she pray.
It’s funny how these life detours play out. One minute, you’re there for support and the next you’re realizing there’s something in this excursion for you too. Our lives are intertwined by blood. Not blood she and I share but that shared between her husband and I that makes her family. The blood of Christ is the most important we share. That is the strongest, I hope will always be strongest.
God knows my need. Knows our need I believe, each one of us. And I needed people. People who cared, who I could share with and would come alongside during a time where I felt things spinning away from my grasp. Maybe that was God’s idea, to get them out of my grasp and into His. He did. He gave me two new friends that are far away but never left my side.
That’s a challenge of officership – no friends. Not the kind of friends that know you and share history with you. The kind that have seen you stripped bare with grief and longing. Exiled in a new place where I wondered if I’d ever find my way.
But she has. Has been there. We’re not the touchy-feely friends who end our convo’s with “love ya”. That week, the week I couldn’t sleep or keep my mouth shut from incessant nervous chatter, I hugged her tight before we left. She was there. For it all. Calling, texting, sharing scripture and writing them on her palms to keep His word in front of her.
These little books say Grace, Hope and Trust. The hardest for me is trust. I know that. Realize it more and more, I’m afraid. This day, I trusted her. Trusted to let her in. To see the ugly me. She could have run. Made up an excuse not to listen. She was there, body and soul.
All of this is another reminder of God’s love for me. For me. The ugly me. The needy me. The out of control me. The me so mad I can’t even form prayers in my mind. That’s the me God loves without fail.
The book with the word trust on it carries the subtitle Psalm 91. Here is the last portion of that text as the Message writes it:
“If you’ll hold on to me for dear life,” says God,
”I’ll get you out of any trouble.
I’ll give you the best of care
if you’ll only get to know and trust me.
Call me and I’ll answer, be at your side in bad times;
I’ll rescue you, then throw you a party.
I’ll give you a long life,
give you a long drink of salvation!”