You Never Have Another Best Friend...

"It was amazing. I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. It can be received gladly or grudgingly, in big gulps or in tiny tastes, like a deer at the salt. I gobbled it, licked it, held it down..." - Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies

I was like deer at the salt on Monday night at our church's monthly house of prayer.  Huddled between two of the godliest women I know, we drank deeply of that grace and received it gladly.  

I have the awesome privilege of being surrounded by a lot of amazing women and have had that privilege for a long while.  One of those mysteries of grace that I'll receive gladly, in big gulps. I get a little stunned when I look back over my life, especially from college until now, and I tick off on my fingers all of the women that I hold so dear.  Mentors, confidants, partners-in-crime, comforters, co-sojourners.  I can't even begin to write a list out of all the women I think are so priceless.  I wish that all could be surrounded by such a gathering of wise, wise friends.  

But tonight I especially want to esteem two of my dearest friends in this season of life - Jill and Alex.  I'm sure if you know me very well, you hear me talk about these two women a lot (and some of you probably even get tired of hearing me talk about them.  My apologies!).  But it's because they have played/are playing such an integral role in who I am as a Christ-follower.  Alex's fiancé Jed, now (affectionately?) refers to us as The Tribe.  "I'll just call you The Tribe." "Oh, The Tribe is meeting again." "You just saw each other less than twelve hours ago, what else could you possibly have to talk about??"  Lots, Jed, lots.  We're women.  There is always something to be said.  

As I sat at the house of prayer quietly praying over so many things the Lord kept bringing to my mind, sweet Jill walks over and, with tears in her eyes, asks if she can pray for me.  So her and I begin praying.  I'm sure we've got eye make-up streaming down our faces by the time she's done.  Then Alex walks over and sits down.  Also crying.  So then we begin sharing some Scripture and just hashing out some things that had been happening recently, things we were praying for.  Then I start praying for Alex.  Then I pray for Jill.  And by the time that all got done, we really were messes.  Runny noses, not enough tissues and too many tears.  

It's moments like that when I think, "This is what this looks like - to intercede, to come alongside, to draw nearer to one another and to Jesus, and to embrace the tears and runny noses."  Life is messy and complicated as it is.  We each are facing series of circumstances, which certainly are not unique to mankind, but to us they seem to leave us with gaping holes in our hearts - relationships from our past that haunt us in ways we didn't see coming, ones that threaten to knock us over, battles with insecurities and worthlessness, thoughts of some-day and not-yet marriages, confusion over next steps.  

But it's in those moments that grace shows up.  Sometimes it comes in the form of encouraging notes, unexpected phone calls, bouquets of "just-because" flowers.  But this time it showed up with skin on, in the form of two women who I esteem highly and who are crazy about Jesus.  I love the line from the deleted scenes portion of P.S. I Love You, when John says, “You never have another best friend like the first one you have when you’re old enough to know who you are in life.”  And it's so true.  But in this case, "friend" happens to be plural for me - "friends."  Because I'll never have other best friends like these first ones I've had when I was finally old enough to know who I was in life.  Well, maybe that's not entirely accurate because I'm still figuring out a lot about my life and those first best friends extends well beyond Jill and Alex.  But nevertheless, I'll welcome the grace that God so graciously provides.  I'll keep gobbling it and holding it down as best I can. 

Ixnay on the Resolutions

I really don't like new year's resolutions.  They are completely worthless in my mind, at least for me personally.  They are not conducive to my personality - I'm either going to do something or I'm not.  I'm not going to sit down and make a list of things I hope to accomplish.  I've tried them in the past and the minute I fail, I give in to self-condemnation and swear them off anyway so I figure why bother?  I'm better off by just quietly determining to do something rather than making a list of goals.

There is one thing, though, that I keep coming back to when I think about this coming year.  It's a prayer from John Piper's book Seeing and Savoring Jesus Christ. (And because Piper is incredibly gracious, you can download the entire book in PDF format from his website - he's got oodles of other amazing free resources, too, including many of his other books in their entirety.)  A friend from college gave it to me years ago and it ended up being one of those books that has more things underlined than it doesn't.  At the conclusion of each chapter he wrote, he included a prayer.  I pulled it out a few weeks ago because I wanted to include a line from it in a gift I was giving to a friend.  I think this prayer is ultimately what I want for 2013 - for myself, for those around me, for my church.  Maybe it's one you'll spend praying for the year as well.

Almighty and merciful God, we exult in the reflection of your might and mercy in your Son, our Lord, Jesus Christ.  We rejoice in the strength of his lion-like power and in the tenderness of his lamb-like meekness.  We take heart from his incomparable combination of excellencies.  It reassures us that there is none like him, and that he is not a mere man like others.  O grant us, in our brash indifference, to tremble before the Lion of Judah and to humble ourselves under his fierce holiness. And grant us, in our brokenness and fear, to gather courage from the lion-like Lamb.  Oh, how we need the whole Christ!  Open our eyes to see the fullness of his excellence.  Remove the lopsided and distorted images of your Son that weaken our worship and lame our obedience.  May the power of the Lion and the love of the Lamb make our faith in Christ unshakable.  So deliver us from small dreams and timid ventures and halting plans.  Embolden us.  Strengthen us.  Make us love with fierce and humble love.  Let us share the confidence of the Lion of Judah that gave him the will to die like a Lamb and rise in everlasting joy.  And in it all, grant that all might see the glory of Christ and that you might be honored through him.  In Jesus' name we pray, amen.

Here's to 2013 being a year when we love with fierce and humble love.