What a Friend We Have In . . . you know?

A couple of days ago I went to an early morning men’s group at church.  Scheduled at 7:00 to give guys the opportunity to participate before heading to work, it is an attempt to call us to bring our faith into our family lives.  The leader, retired as I am, mentioned the importance of prayer and meditation.  One of the young guys shared his recent attempts to spend 15 minutes morning and night just being quiet and listening to God.  So yesterday I made it a point to be more deliberate, more intentional, in my taking time to be present to God.  A funny thing happened.  I realized what an old friend God is.  Gee, this sounds hokey.  But give me a shot at sharing it.

Have you had, at any time in your life, someone you could really I talk with, could say anything to, and they’d listen, not get upset or turn away, just listen?  Have you had anyone who knows you better than yourself, who kind of smiles when you “divulge” some newly discovered thing you’ve learned about yourself, smiles because they knew it all along? 

These days I’ve been working with wood a lot, something I’d longed to do more when I had a job.  My basement workshop has all of the attraction of a place that draws us in because good things happen there.  Think of a place that you like to go to in your house, or maybe even your work, where when you’re there good things happen, you feel accomplished.  It feels good to be there, doesn’t it?  Feel it for a moment.  My workshop is like that, and so it makes sense that I spend lots of time there.   After a few hours, I often notice that my energy or focus fade, and I leave the workshop.  Despite the vitality and creativity to which it calls me, it is the physically darkest place in the house, with four tiny windows only hinting at the brightness of the world outside.

So as soon as I open the door from the workshop, I see light from outside, and I’m drawn to it, to the light and the openness of it.   Yesterday was a cool, breezy day, the tall trees in our back yard doing their sky dance, wearing green and blue, merging with each other, changing partners.  I lie in the hammock and just watched for awhile, and found myself thinking about that young guy in the men’s group taking his 15 minutes with God. 

That’s when the funny thing happened.  When I deliberately turned my focus on “God”, I found myself realizing that it was like turning and finding myself with an old friend, feeling familiar and comfortable.  Familiar and comfortable – with God?  Well, yeah.  This God was the guy (yeah, guy, in my memory – his Mother was the woman who would comfort me) I would hang out with at the bus stop as a kid, after sad days in grades school, hiding from my unfinished homework, feeling friendless and inept, even as I knew I was bright.  This was “God” who was not some distant figure of authority, but well, kind of like Jimmy Stewart’s rabbit Harvey.  He was so big I was surprised nobody stopped and remarked – Hey, kid, who’s the guy standin’ next to ya?  All these years this guy (yeah, still a guy) has been right here.  Same guy.   Same steady, unshakeable friend.  Right here, like now.  

‘Scuse me.  I’m gonna stop and spend some time with my friend here.  Really.

 FreeLemonadeStand by John J. Daniels is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.