My Friend Shelly

My friend Shelly won't send me a picture of herself. She's a little shy around a camera, so all I have of her isn't very flattering. So, after weeks of e-mails and waiting, I'm forced to write this friend's tribute without her.

Shelly is a homeschool mom of 6 children from college age to 5 years old. She is the best friend of her husband. She is a no-nonsense, can-do kind of woman standing strong and victorious against a fair amount of circumstantial trials. She has trusted and not been disappointed in her Lord Jesus through every one.

She works harder than maybe anyone I know, and she never takes time out to complain or even vent. She is transparent with her situation for the purpose of asking for prayer. Those are just a few of her admirable qualities.

Husband and I always have a nice time with Shelly and her husband. And her kids! I like her kids! At first blush, you might not suspect that our two families would appreciate one another so much because we're not like-minded on the little things that divide so many Christians -- like clothing or music -- but we do share one thing. The most important thing. We love Jesus.

Jesus said that the world would know we were His by the way we love one another. He also raised the bar on the previous command to "love others as we love ourselves," to the standard of sacrifice that calls us to "love others as He has loved us."

Shelly did this for me in a profound way a few months back. I'm not sure I ever made it clear to her how much I appreciated what she did. So, I'm going to try to remember it here.

Last year, I suffered two pregnancy losses: the first one in the Spring, was an ectopic, the second one was fetal demise at 10 weeks over Christmas weekend. I was really pretty o.k. with the 2nd loss. I was actually a little relieved because it was so completely out of my hands -- I'd rather bear my cross to God's sovereignty than face the agony of making a choice not based in faith. Anyway...

All this was happening during our time at family-integrated churches filled with l-a-r-g-e families who know that it is a blessing and a reward to have children. So, there is almost never a lack of babies. I made the mistake of arriving late for an informal ladies' dinner with the women from the church one evening and so took my seat at the far end of the table -- where the babies and their carseats hung out for the sake of convenience.

But I was o.k.

And then, I think two more ladies with bitty-babies came and nestled in beside me. I was surrounded -- quite literally surrounded by the tiny reminders of what was lost to me.

I remember looking down at my ice tea and grabbing a couple of Splenda packets to open and stir into my drink. That's what I was doing on the outside. On the inside, I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me and I was frantically praying, "Oh Lord! I want to go home. I need to get out of here. Right now. How can I get up from this table and leave before we even order, without any drama? Please Lord!? How can I do it without any drama?"

And then, my friend Shelly read my mind. There were probably a dozen wonderful women at the table that night, but there was only one who sensed my panic. Only one whom the Spirit would make sensitive to my crushing pain in that moment.

My friend Shelly looked over at me and without any inquiry at all, she got up from the very best seat at the table to come sit in the relative desolation of my grief and bulky car seats. And she knew why she was doing it. And she knew what she was giving up. And she didn't mind. She really didn't mind! She was loving me with a sacrifice love because I needed help, and I will never, ever forget her kindness in that moment. Ever.

I love you, Shelly. You're a good friend and Sister, and I'm blessed by your friendship.