Sticky Friends

I was at the high school three times this week, twice for baseball team meetings and once to take baseball fundraiser money to the office. On the baseball team, there are a few boys who are not as well liked as some. That’s going to happen anywhere you have a large group of kids. As I was sitting in the Phys Ed room waiting for the meeting to start, (I was a little nervous, the blackboard said “test today” and I wasn’t prepared) I noticed all the boys were mostly with their parents. There were a few sitting with friends. My son, in a rare instance, actually was sitting with me and Steve. I had turned my chair around to talk to a friend, and when I got whacked on the head with a chair by a team mate trying to squeeze in next to my son, I made room for him. One of my son’s very best friends in the world is his cousin. Jeff forced his way in between me and Nate so they could sit together. I am always grateful that my son has this relationship with his cousin. They played in the crib together, literally shared a playpen at Grandma’s house. I have a picture of Nate sitting on the floor in the waiting room at St. Francis hospital the day Jeffrey was born. They are 6 months apart. Love each other. Spend lots of time together. Would walk through fire for each other, and always, always, always have each others backs. I love that. Proverbs 18:24 (from the Amplified) “The man of many friends [a friend of all the world] will prove himself a bad friend, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.”
Nate is the one on the left in every picture except the two baseball pictures.



The day I went to the office, it was lunch time. The halls were full of kids. The cafeteria was full of kids. The parking lot was full of kids. The office was crazy. I felt small (physically) and I don’t usually feel small. (And I wasn’t wearing heels, so I felt short as well). I WAS OUTNUMBERED! How do teachers do it? And Youth Pastors? You guys have my respect. The kids were clumped together here and there, but the odd kid was sitting alone eating or with their nose in a book. That doesn’t necessarily mean they were lonely, but I wondered.
The mom in me always feels sorry for the kid with no friends, the kid no one likes, even though I don’t necessarily always want my kid to befriend them. In fact, all of my kids have had friendships that I have ended (or attempted too, my children are not always obedient, and sometimes they are even sneaky).
What’s that old Beatles song “One is the loneliest number”? This doesn’t mean that a single individual is lonely, any more than it means someone who is married and has 5 kids never experiences loneliness. You can be lonely in a room full of people, and you can feel totally loved and fulfilled when you are all by yourself. I recently felt lonely, which is kind of weird because I have an outstanding husband and 5 kids, 3 still at home. My parents live in town, as well as a sister, two brothers, a sister-in-law (who is a very dear friend as well). I work outside the home, so I have contact with lots of people, and I have been blessed with several good friends. And these friends made a difference. One went out for dinner with me, and treated me to Gelato (yummmmm) and then we browsed Lucinda’s in Old Town. We tried on shoes and looked at dresses and pretty clothes and she gave me fashion advice (you CANNOT wear a wifebeater under this jacket). We read all the magnets and greeting cards and looked at the unique gifts for unique people (I don't know anyone unique enough to give these gifts). One went to Starbucks with me and then swimsuit shopping with me, you really need a friend for swimsuit shopping. Someone has to laugh at you when you try on the swimsuit over your black patterned tights, and she bought the suit I liked best. (NOTE TO SELF: check wardrobe. Black tights under a swimsuit and a wife beater under a vintage Victorian style jacket may indicate other underlying fashion issues that need to be addressed). Both of these women showed me that they cared. And it mattered. More than I can say. I have thank you cards to write, but I don’t know how to express what it really meant to me. It was more than dinner and Gelato, (which might be better to experience alone, cause then you can sample more flavors and maybe have seconds). It was more than the suit. It was caring enough to spend time with me and lift me up. It was noticing that I was down, and showing me that I was worth investing in. Another friend sent me an e-mail that simply said, “I miss you”. This is priceless. All three of these acts changed my attitude. I have friends that stick. I want to be a sticky friend too.