Here at “Inside Out”, I share with you from my own life experiences, good or bad. Sometimes I make a Life Lesson application at the end. However, I often leave it up to you to draw your own conclusions. I invite you every week to share your views and life experiences. Boy, howdy. How you share! It blesses my socks off! Well, here’s another story from this week in the life of PapaJ.

I once told a group of teens whom I was teaching, that if they made five really true friends in a lifetime, they would be very fortunate people. They laughed and scoffed albeit in a joking way. Why, didn’t I know, they had tons of friends and they’d be friends forever. As of this day, there is only one person with whom I went to high school who is still a good friend and with whom I stay in touch on a pretty regular basis.

In 1963, one such true friendship began. We lived in Illinois and were invited to move to the Texas Panhandle to pastor a new congregation. Tim was just two years old, Kathleen was five weeks old. Mark was still an undreamed dream! I drove our little ’61 red VW beetle to this town and took a preliminary look-see. While there, our doctor called and wanted me in Illinois for the birth of Kathleen. I flew home, worked through her birth, waited a bit to make sure all was well, and flew back to Texas. After visits and meetings, it seemed good to the Lord and to me that we move there.

One of the young men I met (I’ll call him Dell) and I hit it off from the first time we met. He’d just finished college and was fixin’ to get married. From our first meeting, we became true and lasting friends. He was a rancher/farmer. I’d often drive a grain truck for him during harvest. I’d go out with him to beat the ice off the wheels of the quarter mile long irrigation system.

We discovered how well dirt trails and moto-cross tracks worked with high-powered dirt motorcycles. We hunted coyotes and jack rabbits together. We spent time in the Rockies forcing our bikes, often without air cleaners, up the high peaks just to see the view. When the old, tube-type CB’s became popular, we had to get us some, hoist a very tall antenna and see how far we could talk across the flat Texas plains.

Sadly, we hung in there together during the lengthy illness and death of his slightly older brother from Hodgkins Disease. Both were elders in our congregation.

I could always count on him for prayer, conversation, support, love, and friendship. We left our church there and my best friend in 1973, largely due to the need for my wife, Joyce, to get to a warmer climate. When she went Home to be with the Lord five years later, my friend and his wife flew into Tampa to say a few words at her memorial service. That’s the kind of friendship we had.

Every few years, it seemed, I had some reason to head his direction. We always managed to hook up. Phone calls were our primary link during those years. Every time we talked, every time I passed through his town, it was like we’d never been apart. We’d reminisce and visit, sometimes most of the night.

About five years ago, I passed through his town and totally surprised him by walking into his real estate office. We had a lovely visit. Not long after the rest of my trip, I finished “Grandma’s Songs”. I sent him a CD copy. Never heard a word. I wondered if something had changed between us. Thought of picking the phone so many times, but just didn’t get around to it.

Well, as the months and years rolled by, I just figured that even the best friendships might not last forever. I still talked about him with Pat very often. I reminisced with her about our exploits and experiences frequently. I expressed my sadness that we no longer were in touch! What I didn’t do (and should have done) was pick up the phone and dial until I reached him!

Well, this past week I was out fairly late on a counseling call. When I walked in the door, Pat kinda hollered, “Pick up the phone. You’ll never believe who I have on the line.” Well, somehow, I knew who it was! We talked for nearly an hour. He’d never received the CD. He’d just figured that our good friendship had run out of gas. He hadn’t picked up the phone either.

As we talked, it was just like those five years hadn’t rolled by. I got updates on his children whom I dearly loved. Shared with him about ours. We talked about good old times and remembered our David/Jonathan kind of relationship. The one thing we concluded before we hung up was that we would NEVER let this happen again! For that, I humbly praise the Lord!

I don’t have many friends of that caliber. Wish I had more. I MUST protect those friendships with which I’ve been blessed – cultivate them, protect them, promote them! True friends don’t have to communicate every week or even month. Lots of the best relationships are just there, cast in cement. They’re unmovable, solid, and practically indestructible. Neglect seems to be one of those subtle little foxes that would love to destroy the vine. I hope I’ve learned MY lesson!

Do you have anything you want to share with me? I’d appreciate hearing from you. Use the “Leave a Reply” box below!

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