Friends are like a box of crayons.....

My friend Lori is such a blessing to me lately.  She thinks that I am the one that is blessing her.  We talk about spiritual life applications, and she literally jots down notes about what I say!  She thinks that God put me in her life to help her understand some of the things she is struggling through right now, but HA!  the joke is on her!  I think God put her in MY life to help build me up and encourage me.

What some of you may not know about me (but what my mother knows INTIMATELY and I think sometimes wishes she could change) is I am very, very, VERY hard on myself.  I very often struggle to find good things... really any redeemable qualities in myself.  I am the quintessential perfectionist.

Since this perfectionist has been through a very hard year, she is battered, weary, and little bit bruised.  Lately, however, I have felt myself gaining back a little strength, starting to have the ability to lift my head on my own and look around a bit.  The problem is... as a perfectionist. my natural tendency now that I have a little strength, is to critique myself.... to think of every single thing I've let slide over the past year... to get down on myself for lacking in this... slacking in that... failing in EVERYTHING!

Here's where Lori comes in:  she thinks that I am giving her all these great insights (gleaned only from a wealth of suffering I might add), but I don't think she fully realizes what she is doing for me.  She is building me up.  She is encouraging me more than I can express.  She is helping me to find a few things good about myself... in FACT!!!!  In a VERY, VERY, VERY rare occurrence... during a conversation with her this morning, I actually complimented myself!  ME!!!  Jami!!!  I independently found something good about myself and actually said to her, "I am really good at this."  What a BREAKTHROUGH!  When she says to me, "You have SUCH a great way with analogies."  She thinks she is just stating what she sees to be true, but it is SO much more for me.  It is like she is pouring soothing, healing oil on a aching wound.

About now I'm sure many of you are wondering... so what's with the Forest Gump blog title then....  Here it comes... I wanted to write this blog about Lori, but then I thought, "Well... I don't want to make anyone feel bad."  Will it hurt Christina's feelings that I singled out Lori?  Will Peggy worry that I don't value her friendship enough to blog about her?  Will my dear amazing sisters who are more valuable to me than gold think, "Humpf!  she didn't blog about me!"  Which is when I heard the voice of Forest Gump in my head, "Friends are like a box of crayons..."  (Actually friends are the crayons, but work with me here.)  While Lori is great and amazing and wonderful, she's not the only crayon in my crayon box.  I have many other colors and without them, the pictures I draw would be incomplete.  We all need Loris and Christinas and Peggys and Jodis and Coris...  (actually we all need one of those little crayon sharpeners, like the one on the box of 64 crayons, too... but that's not what this blog is about)...  And it is okay if right now most my pictures are heavily tinged with pink and some of the other colors get a little rest to hang out in the box....  Eventually I'm sure I'll go through a season of my life where I'll pick up the red more often or the green or the blue...

My encouragement to all of you is to remember:  Friends are like a box of crayons.  The more colors we have at our disposal the better the pictures we draw will be.  It is okay if sometimes you get a new crayon (or in the  case of Lori... you discover an old crayon at the back of the box you haven't used in awhile and move it to the front lines) and you LOVE to color everything that color...  That doesn't make the other colors any less important... any less valuable.  In my opinion, the prettiest pictures of life are drawn by those of us who have the most crayons in our crayon box.

Jami's friend manifesto

Cultivate friendships which provoke you to love Jesus more/better.... Sarah Bowling

This was Sarah's FB status earlier this week.  It hit me like a slap in the face.  For over a year now I have REALLY been struggling in the area of friendships.  Truth be told it has been A LOT longer than a year.  Probably since I started coaching cheer at FHS and then on through when John and I led the youth group, I had a VERY full social life, but all of my relationships were mentoring type relationships.   I didn't really have any friends my own age or any who were at my same stage of life.  I started feeling the void left by this deficiency about two years ago.  I prayed and begged God to send me a friend or two.  I just wanted someone who was in my own generation.

What followed was a quick succession of friends who betrayed me, judged me, and believed only the worst about me.  These friendships left me battered and bruised.  In fact, JUST THIS WEEK I said to my sister, "I don't want any more friends!  Friends hurt TOO much!".

So when I first read that FB status it stung across my face leaving a red, hand imprint.  It hurt!  Because even this week my eyes have been furtively darting about searching for a safe hiding place where I could hole up and keep myself safe from these prickly, sharp-edged, pain causing things called friends.

Backed into a corner, setting up sandbags of defense I all of a sudden STOPPED as the application of that statement washed over me. I thought, "Wait a minute!  I have to BE the kind of friend who provokes her friends to love Jesus more/better."  That's all I can control!  The answer isn't holing myself away from the world becoming a friend-a-phob.  The answer is being the kind of friend who spurs people on to loving Him!

I learned long ago that the only person whose actions I can control is ME.  I can't sit around waiting for people to come to me.  I have to go out and BE the kind of friend I need.  So here it is:  my friend manifesto.  What follows is a description of the kind of friend I want to BE.

1.  Loving... I want to be the kind of friend who LOVES people.  I believe that we lead people to Jesus with love.  No one wants to be told how they don't measure up or what they don't do well enough in.  I want my friends to find love and acceptance in my presence.  I don't want to be an encyclopedia of how things should be done or how life should be lived.  I want to be like a pair of those ubber soft, warm and comfy slipper socks.  I want my friends to find softness, comfort, warmth from me... I don't care so much if they find cold hard learning here.

2.  Giving.... I want to be the kind of friend who would give the shirt off her back to help ANYONE.  I want to give lavishly of my time, attention and resources.  I want to reach out to those in need.  I want to cook meals for those who are laid up.  I want to give our hand-me-downs to bless someone.  I don't care how "down and out" I am... I never, ever, ever want to stop being generous.  I never, ever want to stop giving.  I want my friends to know if they need something and there is ANYTHING I can do, I will do it.

3.  Forgiving...  I want to be the kind of friend who forgives ANYTHING.  I want to forgive 70x7.  I want to turn the other cheek EVERY SINGLE TIME I am slapped.  I know that I am inviting pain by doing this.  I know I could avoid some of the agony by walking away from friends who continually hurt me, but I don't CARE!  I wanna forgive because I have been FORGIVEN!  I want my friends to know that our friendship is secure.  That no matter WHAT I will forgive them.

I guess as I typed this I realized that I want to be Jesus to all my friends.  I know that is a tall order, but that's okay because I am a stubborn old girl, and I will not give up on reaching that goal.  So starting today, I am going to do everything in my power to be the kind of friend I want to have.  One who provokes others to love Jesus more/better.  

Lessons I learned from Mercy

I need to begin this blog with a HUGE disclaimer. I am NOT a cat person. I really am not. I can hardly stand cats. In fact (as MANY would tell you), I might have even been heard saying, "The only good cat is a dead cat." I really do not like cats. Okay, finished with the disclaimer. Here's the story:

About two weeks ago, a stray cat followed the kids home from a bike ride. What I didn't know then was that it was just the "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" storyline being played out in front of my eyes. As John and I decorated the Christmas tree (something the kids were supposed to be helping with), they sat out on the driveway petting the cat and playing with the cat.

"She's hungry Momma." was the first step in my slippery slide down the hill. I gave in out of love for my babies, not out of any affinity for this cat. We gave her a can of tuna and a saucer of milk. She set up an abode underneath our front porch, and the kids started calling her Lucky. After about two days, it was time for Elijah's tonsil surgery so Riri came out to the country to watch the other kids. She brought along with her a water dish, food dish and a bunch of cat food. I guess that was step two...

I can't remember the exact timeline, it is all so foggy and seems like it was forever, not just a few weeks. Eventually (we theorize because we were leaving her food outside) she got into a scuffle with another animal. One morning we found her face all gashed up and her nose bleeding. We let her move into the garage to keep her safe and let her heal from whatever predator had attacked her. John and I rationalized, we can have an outside cat and not be cat people. At that point, I announced that Lucky was a lame name, and we needed a real name. We decided upon Mercy because in our dreams the dog we'll have is named Gracie, and Grace and Mercy go so well together. We moved her food and water into the garage, gave her a camp chair and a few blankets to sleep on, and opened the door during the day for her to "do her business."

Our setup became problematic when the weather started turning colder. The day that I found her water bowl frozen solid was the day we knew we were in over our heads. We moved Mercy inside and set her up in the mudroom. In breezed Riri, with a litter box, toys, canned cat food, a brush... all the goodies the spoiling Aunt has right at her fingertips (at least after a quick trip to Target). The kids were in heaven. They would sit and pet Mercy forever.

Mercy was a GREAT cat. She was not like other cats. She wasn't snobby or persnickety. She was friendly and patient. She was great with the kids. She would let Hannah manhandle her and love on her, and she never got mean. She must have been someones cat who had been abandoned or something, because she immediately knew what the liter box was and used it consistently from the beginning. She was a dream cat (if there is such a thing).

We always kinda knew that Mercy was sick. When she first showed up, I told John, this cat just came here looking for somewhere to die. So when we decided to let her come live inside, we determined she would have to take a trip to the vet in order to make sure she wasn't a danger to the children. The vet did not have good news. Likely Mercy had a terminal condition that wasn't treatable, but nothing that could be transmitted to the children. We could try to clear up her infections with antibiotics and keep her for awhile. So we tried. That was Monday.

So there I was (NOT the cat person) squirting antibiotics down this cat's throat twice a day and wiping away her bloody buggers. I mean SERIOUSLY?!?!?! John was humoring me, but I know he was thinking, "Who is this crazy cat lady who has taken over my wife's body?" The medicine seemed to be working. We could hear Mercy sneezing a lot, and she seemed to be clearing some of the mucus from her lungs and nose.

Then yesterday, she climbed in her litter box and wouldn't get out. She sat in there much of the day. It was awful. I explained to the children that she was likely going to die soon, and she knew it. She would let us pet her, but if we tried to pick her up she'd bare her teeth and make a little pitiful sound like, "Please don't. It hurts too much." I was a wreck. The triple assault of watching this creature suffer, realizing I had fallen for this dumb cat and was now going to lose her, and knowing that this would break my babies' hearts was too much for me. I cried all day.

I struggled to find something to do for her. We could not afford to put her down (the vet said it would be nearly $100). No Humane Society would help me because we live in a "non-contracted" area. Part of how we ended up in this jam was because we had called the contracted "dog catcher" guy for Hubbard earlier in this saga, and he never called us back. We prayed for Mercy and that God would help us find a way to help her, and I tried one more time to reach the Hubbard animal guy. Miraculously, I reached his wife. I think my tears helped plead my case for once. She assured me he would call as soon as he returned from work. Mercy left with the animal man at 4:10 p.m. last night. We were devastated but not left without many lessons learned.

1. Then after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death (James 1:15) I am not saying Mercy was sin; however, I am saying, if you don't want to have a cat.... if you don't want to be a "cat person".... do NOT (I repeat) do NOT feed a stray cat. Don't even pet it. Don't even look at it. The parallels here are too clear not to be applied! If you don't want to have sex before your married, don't take your clothes off. If you don't want to become addicted to drugs, don't smoke even your first joint. If you don't want to cheat on your husband, don't spend any time with a man you are not married to. If you want to avoid sin, do NOT entertain it! Don't give it even one second of your time. Because if you let it get just one tiny little paw into your front yard, before you know it that thing will be sleeping on your couch, and you'll be wiping the bloody mucus from it's nose. Trust me! I know some of you are saying, "Not me! I hate cats!" or "Not me! I love my spouse!" or "Not me! I don't drink, smoke or chew or go with boys who do!" But let me tell you: If it can happen to the greatest cat hater of all, it can happen to you.

2. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. (Isaiah 55:9) God sure works in mysterious ways I tell you. Me falling for this cat reminded me of this unexpected friendship that came my way. I had determined in my heart to hate this girl. She had taken my place. She was the new (and MUCH better) cheer coach at HCS, and I was still bitter about having my job, my calling, my ministry ripped from my grip. But in breezed Shannon Michelle and it was all over. She and I "clicked" like peanut butter and jelly. Still now... ten years later she is one of my BFFs. God works in mysterious ways. I never thought I'd love a cat. But I did, and because I kept my heart open to the unexpected I gleaned a lot of good things.

3. Why you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. (James 4:14) Mercy really seemed to be on the upswing this week. Then all of a sudden she veered suddenly and started declining rapidly. Life is like that too you know. All is going well and then without much warning, it is lying shattered at your feet. We had such a short time with Mercy before she was gone, but we enjoyed every moment with her and we loved her and gave her a little taste of Heaven before she succumbed to her illness. So the lesson I take from that??? Suck up every second like it is your last. Savor every moment you have with the ones you love because before you know it your time may be up. I have had two relationships like this. Two very intense friendships that came seemingly out of nowhere and overtook my life. Two "BFFs" who became indispensable within a matter of minutes and then after not very long left my life with a heart-shattering "BAM!" I have really learned to just be grateful for every second I have... with Mercy, with my friends, and with my family. Because I know that sickness, death, or betrayal can rip those things from your grip in an instant, and I never want to be left regretting the fact that I didn't cherish what I had when it was there.

4. The King will reply, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me." (Matthew 25:40) Being kind can never be wrong. It just can't. It might hurt in the end. You might end up with your heart torn to shreds and bleeding profusely, but it can NEVER be wrong to be kind. Recently, I made a kind gesture that was rebuked and thrown right back in my face. At first, I was so angry. The sting of the rejection really hurt. But then I realized, I wouldn't change one thing I had done because I had been kind and that was a good thing. Right now as I sit here a little bruised and battered from having known and loved Mercy, I realize that I wouldn't change one thing. It hurt like heck to let her go, and it hurts like heck still as just a few moments ago I had to console Elijah through a storm of tears after he asked, "Mom, why did Mercy have to go to sleep?" But I am glad we were kind to this tiny little creature. I am glad we gave her love and warmth and food for her last days on this earth.

Okay so I'm finally to the end of this long-winded blog. Please do not mistake me, I am still NOT a cat person. However, I think I may amend my famous saying, "The only good cat is Mercy."

The hole in my heart....

When people come into our lives and then leave, it leaves a hole in our heart. Funny thing is we can try and try and try to fill that hole with someone or something else, but it rarely works. No two people are alike; therefore, no two holes left in our heart are alike either.

Recently I lost a friend. Attempts at reconciliation have failed and currently we are estranged. While I believe that God always wants reconciliation (in a friendship, in a marriage, in a church), I realize that because we are flawed humans, reconciliation is not always possible. Sin, pride, misperception, unforgiveness can all get in the way and rob us of the perfect plan that God has for us. Then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose… Philippians 2:2 Ever the optimist I have left myself open to “Maybe…. Someday….” in this friendship. However, the tiny little realist shoved away in the corner of my heart keeps trying to be heard, “Not this time Jami.”

Therefore, I mourn. Like a teenage girl replaying every text, note and call from her “ex BF”, I mope about the good times. My heart catches every time I touch the coffee cup that was a gift from this friend. My brain replays the situation over and over looking for how to fix it… how to find reconciliation.

Lately my torture has heated up to a boil. I am sure part of that is because Satan wants to torture me. He wants me feeling blue. He wants me missing and longing and lonely. He wants me caught up in YUCK so that I will be less effective for the kingdom of God. I think some of it is also because God wants to get my attention. He wants to call my eyes to different parts of this relationship. He wants me to see what went wrong and why it went wrong, and He wants me to learn from my mistakes. I guess what I can’t get past is just the estrangement. I am really not a person who has many enemies (that I know of). For me friendships wane and wax due to proximity or availability, but very seldom do they end abruptly and severely. In fact including this situation, I can only think of one other time that I have been estranged from a friend and just kinda agreed to let it lie and not be friends anymore. And even that situation, with time, resolved itself. The friendship was never the same, but we returned to being sisters in Christ and having an amicable relationship. I guess maybe it is just the fact that I don’t do “break-ups” well because I haven’t been through many of them. But my soul just has this longing…. This hole I can’t seem to fill….

I think this is what God is trying to tell me. It may not be the exact lesson God has for you in your unresolved relationship, BUT it is not sin and it is probably a good idea to give it a try because it can’t hurt.

1. Pray for my friend. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints. Ephesians 6:18 This verse doesn’t say pray for the saints who you’re in relationship with or pray for the saints who you are getting along with or even pray for the saints who want you to pray for them. It says, “praying for ALL the saints.” (emphasis mine and wishing I could make that PERIOD huge and more emphatic)

2. Walk away…. Again while I FULLY believe that God always WANTS us to reconcile… to make a friendship work…. to stay married…. to keep a church together… this is not always possible. There are times in life where we do have to separate. Abram and Lot had to separate. Their reason may not be the same as mine (or yours), but their example remains. Maybe to tell us, there are definitely times in life where we must go our separate ways. There are times in life when we must just walk away.

3. Never give up hope… I do not think it is wrong for me to hope that at some point in the future God will bring reconciliation about in this relationship. Love always protects, always trust, always hopes, always perseveres. I Corinthians 13:7 There is nothing wrong with hanging onto hope. For that is what love does.

4. Let Him fill the hole left by my friend… When all else has failed… When I have tried everything I, in my human power, can do… I need to just let go of it and let God come in and “caulk” the tiny places where the hole hasn’t been completely filled.

So here I am today. Trying hard to prayerfully walk down this path minus one friend but never, ever letting go of the hope that someday in the future God’s will for ALL relationships, perfect unity, will be made complete in this one too.

If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone… Romans 12:18

I get by with a little help from my friends....

Phew! What an AMAZING weekend so far! Thanks greatly in part to two angelic creatures: Amanda Kastner and Erica Conner. Last week was altogether grueling and seriously had me on my knees begging for mercy. Last night and today replenished, refreshed and rejuvenated me, body and soul. But let's start with what you really wanna know: John.

Well, he's still pretty out of it, and now he's kinda pissed too. See Jami decided to switch her approach to one that is more of a "tough love" kinda approach. After conversing with the doctor's office late last week, one thing really struck home. The nurse said, "One thing we worry about is if he is getting enough nutrition. If he is not, then that can intensify the dizziness, making him not want to get out of bed or eat for fear of vomitting from the dizziness-induced nausea and it becomes a vicious cycle." That hit home with me because John has NOT been eating well AT ALL. He hasn't been on the scale in a while but I would guess his weight loss is well over 30 pounds by now. He is just not very hungry and does not eat much. So #1, I have been NAGGING him continually to eat and I have been trying to pack the meals I do get him to eat with TONS of calories (I should have such a problem hey?)

The other thing that happened was last night I was lying in bed next to him for a while and when I got up to go to the bathroom I had a HUGE headrush and almost lost my balance. It occurred to me that some of the dizziness may also be a vicious cycle of not being in a vertical position often enough. So #2, I have been nagging and prodding for him to get up, to spend more time sitting in the recliner, to walk around more. Tonight (in a very crusty voice) he told me, "You've been pushing me too hard all day and now I feel worse." HOWEVER, he is not acting any worse than he was in previous days. Soooooo the tough love continues.

I know he is miserable and I know that he is in pain, but I don't want to see him continuing to regress if there are things we can do to push on. Plus I remember from the hospital, the therapy people said, "Don't fall into the trap of doing to much for him." So tough love it is.... for those of you who know John PERSONALLY you know that it is no easy feat... using tough love on that guy, but then I guess it's a good thing God gave him a stubborn, bull-headed wife. If I can teach good grammar to 30 hormonal junior highers, then I can do ANYTHING! So.... Today, he ate breakfast and lunch in the chair and got up to sit in the chair a third time so he could give Erika a hug and say goodbye to her. He also ate two good and one mediocre sized meals. Tomorrow we're going to attempt to go into the city for my dad's birthday party. We'll see how that goes.

Sooooooo on to the awesomeness that is Jami's life! Last night my AMAZING step-daughter drove up from Milwaukee. Along the way, she stopped and picked up my emergency groceries (GOSH! the Kastner kids are going through milk like there is NO tomorrow!) and then she put away said groceries, helped me hang laundry on the line, hung out with her brothers and sister for a little bit, and let me gab her ear off before heading back into town. It was sooooooooooo nice to speak to someone over the age of 10 who is NOT doped up on narcotics. Plus grabbing those few groceries, saved me more time and headache than she will ever know! While she was here, I got a phone call from a former cheerleader, Erika Conner. She said, "I was wondering what your day looks like tomorrow. I'd like to come bring you dinner and help you clean." I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming (or more likely hallucinating). I told her for that I'd clear the president himself off my calendar. She said she'd be here sometime after lunch.

So this morning, with the words of the very wise Julene Houle running through my head, I decided to "do something for myself." I got the kids cleaning the man-cave (basement) and headed for the bathroom. I gave myself a mini-spa experience. I did my eyebrows, did a facial, put parafin on my elbows, shaved my legs, lather-rinsed-AND-repeated..... this body was squeakier clean than it has been in a LONG time.... and guess what? Julene was right! It made my soul feel better too.

After my self-indulgent spa time, I rolled up my sleeves and got down to it! By the time Erika had arrived I had only one tiny load of laundry left. The dishes had been cleaned. Lunch had been prepared. My closet had been cleaned. The kids rooms were done. The mancave was.... well passable. When the incredible Erika arrive (lasagna in hand), things were looking pretty good. She cleaned my bathrooms and mopped my kitchen floor, while I organized Hannah's drawers and FINALLY unpacked the linen closet. So now we've been in this house just about 8 weeks and we are FINALLY completely unpacked!!! WOOHOO! For the first time since we moved in (who am I kidding for the first time in a LOT longer than that), I finally feel like I am "ahead of the 8 ball." It is a wonderful feeling.

Right now, as I sit here at my computer (up waaaaaaaaay too late), the only things I still have to do are clean off the top of my dresser and switch the loads of laundry. The kitchen is clean. Floor was even spot mopped after dinner. The coffee pot is set to start brewing at 6 a.m. The mancave is in order. The kids rooms are clean and they are sleeping. I am finishing up just a few tasks to prepare myself for my hike down south tomorrow and then I'm off to bed.

Funny how just 48 hours can change your perspective completely.....all thanks to a little help from my friends.

Don't be a Bildad!

Poor Job, not only was Satan allowed to take every single thing he cherished in an attempt to get him to turn away from God, but on top of that he had to endure the undeserved chastisement of his friends. While the Bible clearly says that Job was being dragged through the fire of testing because he was righteous and upright, Job’s friends accuse him of bringing these tragedies on himself with his own sinful behavior. While all humans are sinful, Job’s sin was not why he was suffering. Job was suffering because God said to Satan, “Hey look at this guy. Isn’t he righteous? Doesn’t he love me?” And Satan said, “Yes but he only loves you because you have given him everything he ever wanted. Take that stuff away, and he’ll stop loving you.” (Of course this is Jami’s paraphrasing of the conversation.)

I always shudder when I get to the part about Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar. Job’s friends must be the Bible’s best what-not-to-do example in the area of friendship. When I am reading the story, I have the benefit of knowing exactly why Job was being tested. Therefore, when I get to the part where Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar start to accuse Job, I get very uncomfortable. How stupid they look! How wrong they are! They are accusing the very man God called righteous! They are telling Job to confess and repent, when what God really wants of Job is to hang on and to stand strong.

When I am faced with a friends suffering, I try very hard to live by these words: My dear brothers, take note of this: “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.” (James 1:19) Not only do I steer clear of accusations like those of Job’s friends, I also refrain from even giving advice. I reason that if someone doesn’t ask for my advice, they are not ready to hear it. Sometimes I think we assume that because someone is pouring out their heart to us, they are subconsciously asking for our opinion. Not good enough for me! I wait, no matter how deep the teeth marks in my tongue get, I bite my tongue and remain slow to speak. Even after I am specifically asked for my advice, I proceed with great caution. I proceed slowly because I know the pain of suffering. I know how sensitive and raw it makes your heart, and I know how even the words of a well-meaning friend can become as painful as lemon juice squeezed in a paper cut. I proceed slowly also because I know that no matter what I have been told, no matter how much I know of the situation, I can never know the whole thing. I can never know why a person is struggling through something. I can never know for sure what God has for that person to learn. Therefore I proceed slowly, hesitantly, and gently. I do not ever want to be lemon juice in someone’s paper cut. I, instead, want to be a soothing balm of honey poured over a raging wound.

Some might counter my argument with another verse in James, “remember this: Whoever turns a sinner from the error of his way will save him from death and cover over a multitude of sins.” (James 5:20) I guess my only response to that argument is: I do not believe that the time of great suffering is the time God wants us turning sinners from the error of their ways. I believe that the suffering need to be pointed to God without condemnation. I have been involved in youth ministries, teaching, and coaching for many years. This has meant decades of dealing with teenagers. More often than I care to admit I have come face to face with a young girl, not married, who finds herself caught in the consequences of her sin. She’s pregnant, and she doesn’t know what to do. Many at that moment might see themselves as the voice of God calling out her sin to make sure that she realizes all she has done wrong. I see my role in that moment differently. I believe that for the next 18 years and more, that woman will be reaping the consequences of doing things out of God’s order. I have watched so many of them face condemnation and rejection from God’s people, when what they really needed was to experience grace, what they really needed was someone to come along side them and offer a hand to help them get up, someone to take a clean cloth and wipe away at the mud of sin stuck to their face, and someone to put their arm around them and help them limp back to the path of God’s will. So what I do is hug that girl. I offer as much financial and emotional support as I can. I give hand-me downs, I lend a listening ear, I buy a baby present, and I celebrate the beginning of a new life. I do not say even one word about waiting until marriage to have sex.

While “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:” (Ecclesiastes 3:1), I just have never believed that suffering is the time for accusations or even instruction. Oh how different it would have been if Job had been greeted by friends who were like cheerleaders, chanting, “Don’t give up! Don’t give up! Don’t give up!” How much would the situation have changed if Job’s friends had been like a warm blanket on a freezing night? If his friends had comforted him instead of accusing him, how would the story have gone?

The next time you encounter a friend who is suffering, the next time you see someone flat on their face in the mud, don’t be a Bildad! Whether the mud that person is lying in is the muck of their own sin or the slime of Satan’s testing, your friend needs the same thing: your support, your encouragement, your assistance, your prayers. Your friend needs to be reminded that God loves him/her. Your friend does not need a friend like Bildad.