What God Wants For Your Life

“What do you mean nothing?  You’re something!  A person!  You’re flesh and blood and bones and hair and nails and ears.  You’re not a fish.  You’re not a buffalo.  You’re you!…You walk and talk and cry and complain and eat little green pills and send suicide telegrams.  No one else does that Felix.  I’m telling you, you’re-the-only-one-of-its-kind in the world!…Now drink to that.”  (Neil Simon, The Odd Couple, 33)

Friendship is not something that we talk about very much, except in passing.  But nurturing friendships should be an intentional enterprise and it is one with genuine spiritual value.

A good friend can be a window into your soul, a source of encouragement, a sparring partner who sharpens your skill, and deepens your virtues.

Look for friends.

Be a friend.

Check in, stay in touch.

Listen.

Give.

Enjoy.

At dinner tonight my wife and I watched a family of four at a nearby table.

Two daughters — one about eight, the other about thirteen.  The eight year old engaged in the experience.  Leaning toward her parents, she participated in the conversation, both contributing and listening.   The other daughter’s demeanor was completely different.  She half slumped in the chair.  Her eyes were half closed, her attention was firmly fixed on her telephone, and she was playing one of the games she had downloaded.  She could have been anywhere.

Over the years I have heard an increasing amount of helpless nonsense from parents about what they cannot expect of their children.  And in response to most of the pleas I frequently ask, “Who’s the adult?”

Set rules about when and where video games can be played.

Start early — the day they get one.

Prohibit their use in social settings — on pain of confiscation.

And follow through.

In other words, parent like an adult.

Most of the sushi we have had, we eat at home, but we ventured out to a Japanese restaurant last night. The food was delightful.

I noticed when we walked in, though, that the hostess, servers, and cooks called out to one in another in Japanese when we arrived, when others arrived, and throughout the time we were eating.

I asked our server, “What is the staff saying, when they shout out across the restaurant?”

“Oh,” she said, “well, part of it is the concept of an open kitchen. So some of what is being said announces that food is ready for you or for someone else. But when you arrive and when you leave, another part of it is a welcome and a farewell and thank you.”

I watched as we left and responded. Noticing that, in fact, the cooks and servers did exactly as she said they would, smiling warmly and bowing. What I also noticed was how simple gestures of hospitality made you feel instantly welcomed and part of a place.

Our homes and churches should be places that signal the same kind of warmth.