Seventeen

The number of years we've been best friends. 

We were 14 the summer I moved back to what I consider my hometown. 

We'd met years earlier when her oldest brother and my aunt dated.  But honestly, I thought she was weird.

Guess it took me a few years to come into my own kinda weird.

So, at age 14 we meet again and become inseperable for the next four years.  There wasn't just Lindsey or just Sarah.

It was, "LindseyandSarah" or "SarahandLindsey" at school, church, our homes.

We knew everything about each other.  The boys we liked, the heartaches, what our home lives were like, the teachers who favored us and those who didn't like us.

We never had many classes together but I'll never forget our Senior year when we had Economics together and the first day we showed up to class together, Mr. Scott said, "Sit where you want but LindseyandSarah have to be on opposite ends of the classroom."

Everyone laughed.  Except us.  I don't think we thought it was very funny at the time.  It's hilarious to me now.

We, of course, did not listen and went ahead to sit together. 

He sighed.

There wasn't a point of trying to keep us apart.  It wouldn't work.

That was also the year we had our names written on the wall and paper towel dispenser in the bathroom.  Good times.  Good times.  (and we totally knew who it was.)

I did everything I could to make Lindsey laugh.  I slammed myself into lockers.  I bumped into upper classmen.  Tried holding hands with kids I didn't know.  Talked to the garbage can as if my mom were in there.  "Mom!  I'll be home from school around 3!"

Anything to make her laugh.

She helped me feel like I belonged somewhere.  For the first time in my life.  I belonged as her friend and I belonged when I was in her home.

She encouraged me to not like the boys that would be bad for me.  Then was my shoulder to cry on after I didn't listen.

She let me hang out with her and her boyfriend.  Often.  I'm sure they loved that.

Still.  I belonged.

She was my maid of honor.  And I was in her driveway the day she left for college a couple of months later.

I helped her pack up a couple of things.  I gave her a gift.  And then I had to leave.

I sobbed the entire way home and for many days afterward.  Sure, we'd still be best friends.  Forever.  But it would be different now.

Everything would change.

We would change.

The next summer she came home from college with a fiance.  The summer my dad died.  The summer I was maid of honor in her wedding.  A wedding to a boy I didn't grow up knowing but would learn to love because she loved him.

More years would go by that we'd visit when we could.  And one day she handed me a calendar she made me for my birthday and the month of January held the due date of her first baby.

We laughed and, I think I may have cried.  Out of happiness for her, but envy on my part.  She called me in the middle of the night on her way to the hospital, in labor with a baby whose sex we did not know. And early the next morning I drove the three hours to see her new son just hours after he'd been born.

Lindsey was now in her element.  All she'd ever wanted was to be a mama.

She was so beautiful to me that day.

A couple of years later she would open her home to me for a few weeks.  Josh and I had filed for divorce but were talking about getting back together.  I quit my job, packed up and headed to Lindsey's for a few weeks while Josh and I tried to sort things out over the phone.

Several months later she would be there within an hour of me giving birth to my first child.  And five months later I'd be there within hours of her giving birth to her second child.

We don't talk weekly on the phone.  Not even monthly.  We've gone months without talking.

But best friends can do that.

And pick up where they've left off like no time has passed.

Two weeks ago I was painting my sister's living room.  Lindsey called on her way to the hospital.  The hospital where her father-in-law lay dying.  We talked about how God could still perform a miracle and save Ron.  I hurt for her.  I hurt for her husband.

We got off the phone.  I resumed my painting.  And about 15 minutes later she called me back to tell me Ron was with Jesus now.

Though we had plans for the weekend of Ron's funeral, we cancelled them, drove three hours north and attended the most amazing Celebration of Life Service I've ever been to.

I cried through the entire service.  Ron was a beautiful man.  His life was inspiring.  Lindsey was blessed to have such a wonderful father-in-law.

But he was blessed to have her, too.

After the service was over I searched out the man who practically helped raise me for four years of my life. 

Lindsey's dad.

The man, who, if ever tired of me having breakfast, lunch or dinner at his house never showed it.  The man who, after preaching on Sunday would drive us home and ask us what we'd learned about.  We'd always say, "Jesus" and then bust up laughing.  He'd tip his head down and look at us through his glasses.  Smirk on his face. 

Saturday it took everything I had not to just go running to him.  I walked quickly without looking too obvious.  But when he saw me, when he saw me...his face broke into this amazing, beautiful smile.  I felt like I was home.  He grabbed me, hugged me and kissed my cheek.  "Sarah, oh Sarah!  It's so good to see you."

And my heart.

My heart overflowed.  Never has a man, a fatherly figure made me feel so loved as I felt in that moment.



me, Pastor Dave, and lindsey's baby sister


When I got Lindsey as a best friend, I got her dad, too.  A man that I'll forever love as my second dad.

We didn't stay at the service long after it was over.  Long enough to chat with Linds a bit but it was time for us to head out.

We don't know when we'll see each other next but it doesn't matter.

We can always pick up right where we left off.

Because that's what best friends do.

Happy Birthday, Linds.  I love you more than you could ever know.  Thank you.  For all of it.