Friends

As I’ve stated many times before, I am still trying to figure out this whole friendship thing. Sometimes I do good, sometimes . . . not so much. I’ve had good friends who I still count as friends and I’ve had some that I probably creeped out a little and who aren’t as friendly to me anymore.

I’ve learned in my life not to beat myself up over the friendships that I feel like I’ve botched. It’s not up to me to carry every single one of my relationships. God is more than able to keep people in my life that need to be there. It’s so much less stressful that I can relax and be myself and not have to worry if that will be enough for people to like me.

I’ve learned to always give the benefit of the doubt and to see my friends in the best possible light. Essentially, I’ve learned to give them grace, because God knows I sure need it. Often.

To my friends who have stuck around, I’m thankful. I don’t deserve you, but I’m glad to have you in my life.

To my friends who I’ve run off or weirded out, I hope you give me grace and a second chance. But I don’t blame you if you don’t. I am still very much a work in progress and though I am at a much better place mentally, spiritually, and physically than I’ve ever been, I still have some broken places and hidden hurts that surface from time to time.

To all my friends, whether you were only around for a few weeks or are still here after many years, thank you. You bless me more than you know. You encourage and support me, you pray for me, you keep me honest, you love me, and you show me Jesus every single day.

I hope one day I can finally be the friend that I’ve always wanted. And with God’s help, I believe I will be.

Dumb Mistakes

I remember vividly when I was a kid waiting for my sister. She took ballet and I would wait outside the building until her practice was over. One time, I had the genius idea and thought, “When she comes out, I’m racing her to the car.”

Lo and behold, she came out and I took off running. I didn’t stop until I sat down in the car. Then I looked up. I thought, “Hey, you’re not my sister. Hey, wait a minute, this isn’t our car.” It was probably one of the most awkward situations I’ve ever been in.

Maybe your mistake wan’t as funny. Maybe it was devastating or tragic. Maybe it ruined a friendship or even a marriage. Maybe you feel like you’re still paying for that mistake made so many years ago.

You’re not alone. Moses messed up royally. He got angry with God’s people and spoke as if he and not God were responsible for giving the Israelites water and helping them out of jams time and time again.

Then there’s David, who committed adultery with Bathsheeba, lied to and tried to deceive her husband, then finally had him killed. I think that qualifies as an epic fail.

The good news is that your story doesn’t have to end with failure. God offers forgiveness and a fresh start if you own up to what you did and are willing to change and go in a different direction.

I love what David wrote in Psalm 51 after he confessed to his own sin and repented of it:

“Generous in love—God, give grace! Huge in mercy—wipe out my bad record.

Scrub away my guilt,

soak out my sins in your laundry.

I know how bad I’ve been;

my sins are staring me down.

You’re the One I’ve violated, and you’ve seen

it all, seen the full extent of my evil.

You have all the facts before you;

whatever you decide about me is fair.

I’ve been out of step with you for a long time,

in the wrong since before I was born.

What you’re after is truth from the inside out.

Enter me, then; conceive a new, true life.

Soak me in your laundry and I’ll come out clean,

scrub me and I’ll have a snow-white life.

Tune me in to foot-tapping songs,

set these once-broken bones to dancing.

Don’t look too close for blemishes,

give me a clean bill of health.

God, make a fresh start in me,

shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.

Don’t throw me out with the trash,

or fail to breathe holiness in me.

Bring me back from gray exile,

put a fresh wind in my sails!

Give me a job teaching rebels your ways

so the lost can find their way home.

Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God,

and I’ll sing anthems to your life-giving ways.

Unbutton my lips, dear God;

I’ll let loose with your praise.”

All I can add to that is

Amen.