I chatted to my friend this week in the UK.
She said she keeps up with my blog and I said I’d give her a mention.
Who knew that five minute Friday would be the word ‘Friend’ so I have 5 minutes to write – no editing no backtracking *cough*.
Remember:
When we were in school together…and you spelt your name with a ‘y’. So cool.
We topped and tailed in my little single bed. A lot.
When my side the friendship talked the other into taking a day off school. Hmmm.
When I required big scrunched hair, you were my scruncher – diffuser and all.
When you saw my home as yours. My family as yours. That was good.
When we decided to say yes to the Jesus who invaded our lives with love and freedom.
Our mature years (late teens) – of even bigger hair and such sensible clothes, Benny Hinn and dwelling in four dwellings.
And then the wandering and wondering and meeting up again.
And all those babies.
And now…
Your eldest sits his leaving exams and my littlest sits his weekly spellings.
Your eldest says ‘Mom, I want physics and psychology and art.’
And my littlest goes to bed asking ‘Is it OK if I just tell God  He’s cool because of His superpowers.’ We’re doing a great job!

You’re more than my mate Kayt, your my sis.

Nearly 3 years ago, I stepped off a plane and had to start friend making again. And that’s been hard. It takes time doesn’t it?
Time. Energy. Effort. Courage…there’s that word again.
We are all meant to be friends with someone. We cannot do this life alone.

Jesus loves friendship.

I spent my Thursday at the Hope Centre.
I chatted with my biker tattooed bro with his UK imported Dr. Martens. I let him know his boots were having a major fashion moment in the UK. That kids, teens and Moms alike were wearing them with pride. The boot, designed after a ski injury back in the 60’s has made its air cushioned sole through decades of punks and skinheads to style mags and catwalks.
(I was the 9 year old skinhead down the Lye with waist long hair and docs) Seriously.

My Hope Centre friend. He told me he wasn’t sure if he fit in there because he was so different. ‘I mean, just look at me’ he said.
I told him everyone in the Hope Centre was different so he would fit in just fine.
As he was leaving he came up to me and said
‘Hey, English. I had a great morning.’

I could say its because of the Patti’s sandwiches or my excellent coffee or Esther’s hospitable skills. But I think it’s more than that.
You see there’s something that connects us all.
Whether homeless, happy, frantic, fed. We are made for connection.
For friendship. For community.
Whether living life together day by day, a weekly visit to the Hope Centre or friendship across the pond.

Friendship, is gift to be treasured and not taken for granted.

(not the boots HC bro was wearing, the boots I would wear;)

My prayer is that you will find courage to allow yourself to find and to be a friend.

Yes courage.

‘The root of the word courage is cor—the Latin word for heart. In one of its earliest forms, the word courage literally had a very different definition than it does today. Courage originally meant “To speak one’s mind by telling all one’s heart.” Over time, this definition has actually changed, and today, courage is synonymous with being heroic or performing brave deeds.
Heroics and bravery are important, but I think we’ve lost touch with the idea that speaking honestly and openly about who we and about our experiences (good and bad) is the ultimate act of courage. Heroics is often about putting your life on the line. Ordinary courage is about putting your vulnerability on the line. In today’s world, that’s pretty extraordinary’ Thoughts of Brene Brown.

And finally…
Back to my mate kayt. She wears docs.

Have a great weekend friends!
Love,  Michelle. xoxo

“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art… It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.” CS Lewis.