17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Sweet friendships refresh the soul
Caleb
S trains of the choir’s last hymn drift down the hallway to the meeting room.
The space is open. Children’s drawings are taped to one wall, a tray of stale-looking cookies is on the counter, and beat-up folding chairs are set up around a wobbly-looking table. Becca waves at me from where she’s seated with a Bible open in front of her.
I hadn’t bothered to bring a Bible with me, not even sure if I’d go to the adult ministry after. “Caleb, what a nice surprise.” Becca pulls the chair out next to her. “I’d hoped you would come.”
The elderly male leading the study stands near a sink putting his weight on a cane. He’s nodded my way in the past, but I’ve never spoken to him. When he begins to talk with a lisp, I lean forward like it will help me understand him better. “We’come, wets gwo ower…” I find myself hoping he’s not doing all the talking today, then blush at the mean thought crossing my mind. It’s a challenge to make out what he’s saying. Thank God Blaine isn’t here with me.
Next to me, Becca begins to giggle under her breath. Relieved I’m not the only person finding some humor in the situation, I smile at her. The other five people in the room have their heads down scanning over the topic verse. The only way I can decipher what’s happening is Becca pointing out the highlighted verse. “And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith” (Matthew 21:22).
If you have faith . My prayers lately have turned into pleas. One constant is a prayer asking God to move in Eden’s heart, that she would suggest coming with me to church. But she seems certain on the subject, telling me organized religion is too cult-like for her taste.
We take a break halfway through the study. I’m bored out of my mind. There are no deep or thought-provoking insights. Other than the leader of the group, Becca is the only other person who speaks up. Being my first time, I don’t want to jump in. “Your wife didn’t make it?”
“I didn’t ask her to come with me.”
Becca bites her thumbnail while looking down at her Bible. “Oh? Why not?”
I could give reasons why Eden isn’t here. Tell her my wife thinks I’ve traded the FLDS Holy Brotherhood for The Church of the Good News, or my wife doesn’t believe in God because her childhood made her distrust blind faith.
Instead, I say, “She’s having a hard time lately. Coming here would just add to it.”
“Church is a place to lay your problems down. To give them over to God,” Becca says with wonder in her voice. “I’m so sorry she doesn’t feel that way. It must be tough on you.”
I wouldn’t describe it like that. I’d love to know Eden believes in God’s salvation, in an afterlife. Sharing this part of me with her would make me feel more secure in our family. But I don’t feel like I’m suffering.
Becca continues, “You said she’s having a hard time. Is she sick? Sorry, I suppose that’s a bit personal. I don’t mean to pry.”
My friends…scratch that, my brothers Matt and Keir must be rubbing off on me. It does feel too personal. I change the subject as nicely as I can. “That’s not it. No. Tell me about where you grew up.”
I learn Becca is the same age as me, and she moved here from her parents’ animal rescue in Indiana after leaving an abusive ex-boyfriend. She talks and I listen. I tell a couple of stories about the kids. “...then he asked what the ticking sound was in my truck. I told him it was the turn signal so other cars know we’re going to turn. He tells me they’re never going to hear that…”
“You’re so funny,” Becca says laughing. “You really are.”
We find ourselves whispering and talking throughout the last part of the study when the leader asks people to pair up for an activity. We are being asked to share a Bible verse we like. “Mine would be ‘Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends,” Becca says. “I miss my friends from home so much. But…we’re becoming friends, right?”
It feels good to have a friend my age who isn’t part of my family. “Yeah, of course.”
“Your turn. What Bible verse would you choose?”
Mulling it over, my brain latches onto the memory of studying the Bible with my half brothers and sisters. Being made to memorize parts cherry-picked by my uncle, the prophet, warning of destruction, death, and suffering if we didn’t obey. None of it was particularly liked by me. Then I remember a verse I do like. ‘So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.’ From Isaiah 41:10.
Walking to my truck with Becca, she asks if she can text me information about a concert the church is having next month. I give her my number, telling her if she wants help locking up again to call. We live fifteen minutes from the church. “Thanks again for coming to ministry group. You made it so much better,” she tells me before saying goodbye.
My heart feels lighter. It wasn’t the group; it wasn’t even the scripture; it was knowing I have a new friend with so much in common with me.