We’ve talked a lot in services recently about reaching out into our community, developing relationships with those around us. One of our speakers spoke of a neighbor that came into a relationship with Christ after years of a friendship.
Friendship is powerful.
When I was growing up we moved around a lot. My mom was a single mom and she often worked evenings. I don’t ever recall the word “playdate” because I think back then it was just safe to wander the neighborhood until you found someone to play with. I’m certain that is what I did. I was a bit of a social butterfly growing up. (I’m sure that’s hard to believe )
As much of a social butterfly as I was friendships were hard for me. I always seemed to struggle with feeling like I didn’t have much to offer. I would get jealous (I don’t think I knew it at the time) of friends who had mom and dad at home. I remember being curious of Dad’s and why some where there and some where not. Friends with siblings I deemed to be about the luckiest kids on earth- oh what I wouldn’t have given for someone to hang out with in my own home. (I may have changed my tune on that a bit when I went from an only child to having a baby brother come home when I was 9!) From a really young age I felt different and I was never really sure why.
This was hard in my teen years. I always found myself jumping around from friend group to friend group. In my middle school years there was a older group that I hung around and they always seemed to take care of me. Despite life choices that were not healthy I felt secure with them. I am still in touch with some of them today (via facebook). Even with a group I felt a bit more secure with I was insecure inside. I developed friendships in my teen years but as soon as one got to close I would move on. I think I always knew if someone really knew me they wouldn’t be to impressed anyway. Somewhere along the way I really started believing knew without a doubt that my worth was based on what I did and believe me what I was doing with my life was not what you write home to mom about.
When I was 18 and expecting Kayla I lived in California. (California was part of my “If I just had a fresh start campaign”) I lived with an Aunt and two of her kiddos. I nannied for her and in exchange I had a roof and food and also my aunt and I had a pretty good relationship. I knew she loved me.
Across the courtyard there were three families, all three couples were also expecting babies. Two of the couples were due before me and it was their second child and one of the couples was due after me and it was their first. I don’t remember exactly how we all started chatting but all three of these couples were very kind to me. There was also a gal next door to me that was expecting a child right before me. She and I were also becoming good friends as we were both young, unmarried and pregnant.
What was odd to me is during this time I don’t ever remember feeling judged by them. I don’t remember feeling inadequate or insecure. I also knew they didn’t know all the sorted details of my life and really there was no reason to tell them. All three of these women (and their husbands) took me under their wing and I wish I could say I remembered specifically conversations we had but I don’t. Two of these couples I know for sure where Christians. I went to church a few times with one of the couples while I was pregnant.
I want to point out here that at this point I had just turned 19 and my perception of God was so skewed and in my mind God’s view of me was NOT GOOD, I had heard about those wacky “born again people” but other than that I was clueless. I had looked into becoming Mormon but what I remembered is one of their beliefs is you must not drink and you must be a non-smoker and neither one of those things was of much interest to me.
I’m going to fast-forward a bit to to after I delivered Kayla. She was about 5 weeks old when it became crystal clear to me that this Jesus that I had heard about somewhere along the way would be the ONLY ONE to love me like no one on earth could love me. I was alone with Kayla, very upset and heartbroken and I promise you you nothing up to this point in my life was as clear to me as this was. I will be forever grateful that after all my dirty filthy sin Jesus the Son of God sought after me.
I believe the friendships these women in my apartment complex softened my heart enough to know this truth when I needed to.
I knew exactly what friend to go to with this new found truth to help sort out what it meant.
I sat on the couch of one of these couples and said “I think I want to be a Christian”
Their acceptance of me and the love and kindness they showed me were the only things I had to go off of. I don’t remember before this even discussing faith matters with them. (either that I was still closed to it) but regardless they simply reached out to me.
A 18/19 year old girl, single and pregnant. No boundaries, most likely stinky from cigarette smoke, aged way beyond her years.
I am sure I said and did things that made them cringe inside.
They reached out and I met Jesus.
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