A Sleepover, A New Bra, and Lunch

Hey Jenn,
Would you like to spend the night this weekend? Whatever night is good for you is fine for me (but either Fri. or Sat. night Ian Ailer and I might be going out, but I'm not sure...so I'll talk to Scott Brownsberger and see)...but the other night we can - eat, reminisce and just play around. Please don't be bummed about Bobby and Michelle. You're such a cutie pie - you shouldn't fret over that! Don't worry, God has someone soooo special for you!!! (That's what I keep telling myself :)) Who do you think you'll ask to Winter Formal? There are so many cuties out there that I would love to go with , but I don't know if they would want to go with mua! Oh heck! It's not easy being a lonely lover in the 1980's.
Well, I better go! Love ya!
Trish

For some weird and wonderful reason I have held onto this little note that my dear friend, Trisha, wrote to me almost 26 years ago. I completely crack up everytime I read it...especially the part about being a "lonely lover"... Trish may never speak to me again for posting this on the world wide web, but it is part of a very important story in my life. Trish is a friend that I've had since high school...a best friend, really. We saw each other through college, were in each other's weddings, and while I couldn't have babies, she was generous enough to share hers with me, then celebrated like no other when I finally received my miracles. We've walked through trials, pain, and loss together. And we've laughed hysterically along the way. Trish is a friend who knows me well, knows where I've come from, knows my family, and has loved me through my best and worst times. There's something about a friend like that that makes you feel really solid.



While trying on one top after another only to have Jaime say, "No, take that one off...it's no good.", she finally broke the news to me. "Okay, I have to tell you something", she said. "What?" I asked, dying to know why I couldn't seem to find anything that looked good on me. "You need a new bra." Only my friend Jaime would have the courage and the fashion savvy to tell me such a thing. I was both grateful and completely humiliated. We left that store without anything because we didn't have time to shop for a new bra. I don't know about you, but I hold onto a bra until it disintegrates off of my body. And I usually then go to Target to replace the one no longer visible. I later told my big sister, Karen, the humiliating story of needing a new bra and she gave me some big sister advice. Go to Nordstrom and have them fit me correctly (fitted for a bra...who knew you were supposed to do that?), spend the $60 on one beautiful bra, then return to Target to buy any others.

So, of course, I had to take Jaime with me to Nordstrom. We walked into the store...really, she was dragging me into the lingerie section, like a terrorist being taken to an interrogation room, because I was suddenly certain that what was about to happen was going to be more traumatizing than a pap smear. "She needs to be fitted for a new bra", Jaime said with utter confidence. I was standing there shaking from nervous humiliation, smiling like an imbecile. "Come on, Jif, it's not like their taking you into a gas chamber" I coaxed myself, "they're just going to measure you for a bra." For those of you who don't know me in person, I have to tell you something about myself...I have large breasts. I blame prayer. When I was little, for some reason, I prayed for big boobs and the Lord said yes to that one. I was always proud of my bra size: 34 C...it was one of my best features. But with the passage of time and the addition of some pounds the 34 has gone up to a 36 and, according to Nordstrom, the C has gone up to a D! The very snooty saleswoman wrapped her tape measure around my chest and whisked out of the dressing room before I could hear the bad news. An instant later, she brought in bras that would be suitable for the bride of King Kong. I kid you not, you've never seen bras as big as these before. I thought Jaime was going to pee her pants laughing. We were staring at them like it's not even possible that anyone needs a bra this huge. So I tried on bra after bra...modeling them for my friend...enduring the humiliation and my white fat stomach hanging out...until I found the perfect one. It was not as grotesquely huge as the others, and looked really good on me, if I do say so myself. The bad news was that Jaime liked the bra so much, and the saleslady had pushed her so much, that she tried one on too. Now...just so you know...my friend Jaime has an upper body to be coveted. She has the most beautiful, petite, skinny upper body, complete with a perfectly flat tummy. I was ready to kill her when she said, "Wow! I've always worn a 34 A...but they measured me at a 32 B!" And very unfortunately for me, we both decided on the same bra. Jaime laid hers down onto the delicate wrapping paper at the register...it was a thing of beauty. And while we were both admiring her lovely new purchase we were interrupted by the sound of the forklift carrying my bra onto the table. They dropped my bra down...caboom!...right next to Jaime's. It was a moment of horror I'll never forget. I looked at Jaime and said, "My bra is going to kick your bra's ass!" You can only laugh at such a time. I stood there with my dear friend who loved me in spite of my white, not as thin as it used to be, body...and we giggled endlessly. The best part came after that. We took my new bra immediately down to the women's clothing section, where I tried on one new top after another hearing my sweet, sickeningly lovely, honest friend say, "Yes! You have to get that one!" Everything I tried on looked great. "I look amazing in this bra!", I announced to the world. I felt like a supermodel. And it was all because my friend had the courage to tell me the truth. Jaime wouldn't have been a true friend if she had just let me spend money on tops that didn't flatter me. I will never shop without her again. And... if she has the courage to tell me things about my undergarments, I trust she won't withold even more important hard-to-hear truths from me. How lucky I am to have such a friend.




"She changed her mind." I choked out between sobs. "She's keeping the baby...she can't go through with the adoption." There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. Then Paula said, "I'll be right there." We had been waiting for our second child for over a year when we finally were chosen by a young girl to adopt her baby...and it was a girl. She was due to deliver any day. We had even become confident enough to put the bassinet back together and wash some lovely baby girl clothes. Nothing was as enjoyable to me in those days than folding freshly laundered baby clothes...the smell, the feel...the thought of who would wear them...I just loved it. And now, it was all crashing down. This is the big downside of adoption...the birthmom may change her mind...and who could blame her? I hung up the phone and went to my kitchen window feeling like someone had just punched me in the stomach. "Now how long will we wait?" "This must be what a miscarriage feels like". These thoughts were drowning me in sadness and darkness. My only hope was a small, squeaky, desperate and not-so-sure prayer, "You do everything well...You do everything well...You do everything well..." I said it over and over, hoping the darkness wouldn't take me over. It really sucks building your family at the mercy of some flakey and irresponsible teenager.

Thirty minutes later, my sweet friend was at the front door with two big grocery bags. "Jif...I have no words...so I brought food." She came in, crawled into the pit with me, and we ate and cried. It's my favorite story of my friend, Paula. She is the friend who always has words. She has words of wisdom, words of encouragement, words of discernment. It was rare that she wouldn't know what to say or do in a certain situation. But this time, she had the wisdom to know, there were no words. No words would help, so she just needed to come with food. And it helped more than she'll ever know.



I have been blessed with amazing girlfriends. It wasn't always like that. When I was a kid, even into high school, I had a habit of tying my boat to the boats of girls that weren't trustworthy, weren't faithful, were basically pretty selfish, wouldn't stand during the storms. It wasn't until the Lord brought me Trish that I learned what a true friend looks like. We were like two peas in a pod...loved the same things...had the same sense of humor...loved being together...perhaps we were separated at birth. But the best thing about Trish is that she is a true friend. She walked with me even when I wasn't living according to God's best for me. She listened to my deepest pains and hung around. She put babies in my arms when they were empty. And my favorite thing...we laugh and laugh and laugh together.



You can tell the difference between pathetic friends and, as our pastor used to call them, prophetic friends. Pathetic friends will want your good until it's inconvenient for them or threatens them somehow. Pathetic friends will let you buy outfits or makeup that look terrible on you because it's too hard to say the truth. Pathetic friends will let you rag on your husband and fuel the fire of your frustration. But prophetic friends do the hard work. They point you back toward your husband and why you married him. They gently point out that maybe the answer to this marital issue is something you need to do. They point you to the Lord ALWAYS. Prophetic friends will love you when it's inconvenient. They will carry your pain to the Lord in prayer...again and again...until he answers. Prophetic friends will not try give you superficial easy words to get you out of that pit, but will climb down into it and sit with you for awhile...it's not enjoyable for them...but they do it anyway. Prophetic friends know when to shut up and just listen. Prophetic friends are there to help you stand, when all you feel like doing is falling.



Here's a confession: I have been a pathetic friend more times than I'd like to admit. Miraculously, I've learned the joy of being a good friend, by having them. I've learned the blessing of carrying a friend's load...walking the extra mile with them. We all need our girlfriends. We need those who will laugh until it hurts and cry until there are no more tears. We need girlfriends to hold us up, listen to our stories, and lift us in prayer. It's how we're made...to need each other. We all know when we've tied our boat to crappy friends...don't settle for that. Find those who will be prophetic friends, not pathetic ones. The blessing is eternal. Even if they do tell you it's time to get a new bra.