Fred

I was greeted on Facebook this morning, first thing, by Fred.

He asked me (about my picture posted) if I was 65 yet?
And then: can you still walk on your hands?

My answers:
64
I only walk on my hands at the end of a very long wearisome day. (Get it?)

Two rather remarkable questions:
one about my age - you are not supposed to ask that.
one about my craziness - you are supposed to have forgotten old querques.

But I am all smiles and answer him chuckling.

Fred is a friend.

He appeared in my life when he moved from Saskatchewan to Montreal to take advantage of his full scholarship to McGill University. I was in High School struggling with the death of my mother and the reshaping of our family.

His distance from home and our families great loss, put us together often and we became friends...over pizza, clowning, and seeking God about what we were to do with our lives. (We both became pastors...and still are.)

Age differences, country differences (for the rest of our lives), seeing each other only on very rare occasions.

Still friends.

So as I walk this morning, after his greeting, my mind is exercising too, and joyfully thinking about Fred and friendships that last.

My SS Malibu is now probably rust. My "dream home" is left behind. The Senior Pastor role is gone. My fathering is giving way to grandfathering.

Everything changes...some things disappear.

Friends have a way of remaining.

Fred and I exchanged words about getting together again...and I assure you if we do it will be memorable. Friendships resume often if given even the slightest chance.

So make sure a lot of your energy and resources are given to friendship.

Especially too with Jesus. Best friend ever.

Thanks Fred.

Selah

David