I have this friend I love a lot. She nags me about writing. “You’re so funny; you need to write more,” she says. “You need to write every day. Just sit down and do it.” She keeps at me in spite of my protests that I do write almost every day. But what I write is a lot of letters, which don’t count. She wants more for me. Good friends are like that. So here I am, writing a little about not writing a lot.
Today, I broke routine and went off gallivanting with a new friend. First we drove to a retirement village where they had thrift stores. Unfortunately, the shops were closed. This inspired her to give me a tour of the place where her parents had spent their last days. We wandered into newly redecorated common rooms and cafeterias. She showed me the indoor pool and workout room. Finally, we found the arts and crafts room where there were amazing projects on display: watercolors, quilts, ceramics—you name it; they’d done it. Although the teacher was busy preparing for a class, she stopped to greet us and chat for a minute. After that, my friend and I went to lunch where we discussed the recent deaths of her two close family members, and the changes those events had caused. Since she’d lost both loved ones within a period of six months, I was amazed by her resilience, her clear-headedness. I don’t think she needed my words; I think she needed a presence to reassure her she’d get through this. There I was after all, still breathing, thinking, talking, hoping, and making plans about teaching a plant class. Maybe her life wasn’t over yet either.
The thing is, our relationship began because I’d sent her a sympathy card. There was very little writing on it, and although that little wasn’t profound or remarkable in any way, unexpectedly, it connected us. It probably did more good than this article will.
Some of us were designed to do small things in quiet ways. We will never rock the world or inspire crowds, but we may occasionally encourage a soul. So this is the message I have for my cute, gifted, gregarious, diligent, energetic, faithful, loving, friend:
God can use amateurs.
There— I just sat down and wrote it.
All my love.
