In case you have been wondering–no, I’m not dead. My absence this week (if you even noticed at all), was only due to me feeling like I was dying.
You know that you are sick when you start believing that the five-year-old might be mature enough to watch the baby. Or when you stop doing superfluous things like showering and brushing your teeth. Or when you call your husband half an hour into the work day to ask him to come home early, then spend the rest of the day essentially catatonic on the couch.
And the worst part? That would be when our satellite decided to go out for no good reason. Do you know how awful it is to be stuck on the couch and only have stuff that you forgot to erase off of the DVR to watch over and over?
Thank heavens I’m feeling like a person again.
I recovered in time for our Young Women in Excellence program last night. The girls did a beautiful program with lots of songs and narration that focused on stars and being a light to the world. I think that everyone was touched by the Spirit during the program.
Of course, for me, the theme of the stars brought up a lot of old memories. That used to be a theme/running joke in my life.
When I was a teenager, I became friends with a young man that I went to church with. He and I really started becoming friends right around the time that he was having a crisis of faith. Or an explosion of social life. He had gone from being a somewhat chubby trombone player in the high school band to a weight lifting, football playing, “Greek god” (my mother came up with that one) over the course of one summer. That fast and drastic of a change got him a lot of attention–not the kind that necessarily would make a teenage boy feel like clinging to religion.
Still, he and I became very good friends. We would talk a lot about life. He was a couple of years old than I was, and left for college. During that time, when I was insecure about not having a boyfriend, he would come home from college and ask me who I was dating. When I would tell him that I wasn’t, he would insist that it had to do with a choice I was making because any guy would want to date me. He did more for my self esteem at that point in my life than he would ever know.
One summer, when he was home from school and we were hanging out a lot, the stars became a regular topic of conversation for us. It started when I said how much a loved them. He asked why, and I smiled and said it was because I planned to have my own someday.
After that, he would tease me whenever I commented about the lack of stars some evening.
“They’re right there,” he would tell me.
“Where?” I would ask, looking up into the sky.
“Right there…behind the clouds.”
We had several conversations after that about his relationship with religion. I firmly believed that his testimony was like the stars–right there, behind the clouds.
It has been seven years since I’ve talked to my friend. Every so often, something reminds me of him, and I wonder how he is doing. I’ve always regretted that I wasn’t able to be the change in his life that I felt he was in mine.
I still hope that, someday, he’ll see the stars.