A Little Help from my Friends

If there's one thing I know I need to grow in it's being open to community.

Maybe it's got something to do with where we grew up. You could only see one house from our porch, and the only communication we had with those people consisted of my dad and the guy hitting golf balls back and forth from our hill to his.

Maybe it's got something to do with being a twin. It doesn't take a genius to tell you that twins have pretty solid built-in community that doesn't require a lot of intentionality to build.

Whatever personality traits may have conspired to create a natural barrier to sharing my life with others, and whatever effect the sleugh of John Wayne movies I've watched and Johnny Cash songs I've listened to may have had on me, this much I know: My God values community and He's shaping me into a community-valuer too.

This challenging and refreshing truth has come to me in two parts over the past couple of weeks. The first deals with a 2000 Nissan Sentra, and the second deals with a Psalm I like to refer to as #16.

Sentra first. This post is only one removed from the story of my 1989 Bimmer dying a year ago this February, and whether or not it's becoming an annual activity to get a new car every year I don't know, but I do know that I needed to ditch the Bimmer's replacement, and that right soon, about two weeks ago.

Said replacement, a 1999 Corolla that had been badly damaged in a wreck involving one parked vehicle and one vehicle in motion (that's all I have to say about that), began making the same hideous wheel-bearing noise it had made in October, that at the time had prompted me to give a temporary fix to the problem that I'd hoped would last longer than it did.

Well, it didn't last quite long enough, and so when the wheel-bearing noise reared its ugly head, I decided right then and there to get rid of the 'Rolla and locate a new car pronto.

Enter the Blakeys. Our good friends since before we were married (their wedding day marked the first day we Hobbs officially started dating), who had also been in our wedding, Billy and Cory had recently bought a car that made the Sentra their third car.

Short story kept short, the Blakeys made us an offer we couldn't refuse on the Sentra, and we are now the proud owners of the fine Japanese automobile.

Friends come in pretty handy around here, Bub.

But the functionality of friendships is never the goal. Otherwise, your friends become contacts and you become the pan-handler going down your contact list and offering your friends a chance to buy in to your deal-of-the-day goof ball product. Friends become contacts, which become alienated.

No, friendships serve a higher purpose, and I was reminded about that today while reading through Psalm 16.

Verse two struck me like a thunderbolt: I say to the Lord, "You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you."

No good. No good apart from the Lord. Do I live that? Can I come close to saying that apart from the Lord, I have no good, no rest, no solace?

I don't think I'm there yet. I want to be there, but I know I'm not when I overreact at a situation that threatens my dependance on comfort, like I did first thing when I walked through the door last night.

The claws come out and the fangs get sharp because I'm not finding all my good in the Lord, instead, I'm finding it in things that make me comfortable.

Reading through the Psalm, I thought that maybe I was done being challenged. But I read on to verse three:

As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones, in whom is all my delight.

Okay, no good apart from the Lord, check. All my delight in--the saints of the land?

How does this fit together? I think it has everything to do with community, that is, actually caring about our brothers and sisters, having a stake in their lives and making ourselves vulnerable to them.

When we find friends who help us to see that the Lord is all our good, then we've found the saints. We've then found the excellent ones.

I'm so grateful to my friends for helping me to find all my good in the Lord. Real friends do that. They're always bringing Jesus before us, always bringing us before the Savior's feet.

I want to be a friend like that. I want to be one who points everyone I come into contact with to go away refreshed and renewed to look upon the One in whose presence there is fullness of joy, pleasures forevermore.