Fellowship in the YLCF Team

"Tell me what company thou keepst, and I'll tell thee what thou art."
- Miguel de Cervantes

"Be slow to fall into friendship; but when thou art in, continue firm and constant."
- Socrates
"A Friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of Nature."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

"When true friends meet in adverse hour;
'Tis like a sunbeam through a shower.
A watery way an instant seen,
The darkly closing clouds between."
- Sir Walter Scott
"It is not so much our friends' help that helps us as the confident knowledge that they will help us."
- Epicurus

"I count myself in nothing else so happy
As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends."
- William Shakespeare

Pizza and Tea Cups

Antique FireKing tea cups.

Sourdough pizza (with olive oil and garden-fresh veggies).

And the dearest of friends to sweeten the mix.

Natalie came to visit our farm a few weeks ago. It was truly a delightful time with my sissy. Long talks, laughter, and some tears. True friendship is as precious as it is rare. Miss you already, sis...

June in Georgia

Here are a few more glimpses of my time with Lanier...

The smallest and biggest members of the farm...


Poetry and tea under a star-filled sky...


Feeding the lambs

Of tea, kittens, and literary conversations

Lanier and I are finally taking time from barn chores and tea parties to say hello! The past week has been truly delightful. Instead of attempting to describe how cathartic their menagerie of babies has been for me, I decided to share pictures. Every day plenty of time is spent cuddling with three painfully adorable kittens, playing with the dogs and cats, trying to charm the Gulf Coast lambs, and being charmed by the Nubian goats. And of course we are constantly talking--about writing, C.S. Lewis, books, poetry, and all things literary. Talking about God, life, relationships, and everything under the sun. On day eight of my visit we have yet to run out of things to discuss and I doubt we ever will.
For me, these idyllic days in the beautiful South have served as a special gift of grace. I've felt God's loving touch on my heart as I have enjoyed His creation and fellowshipped with His people.

I will write and share more when I return home, if we do not get around to it before then. For now, I will leave you with a passage I read this morning in Isaiah 46:

I am God, and there is no other;
I am God, and there is none like me,
declaring the end from the beginning
and from ancient times things not yet done,
saying, 'My counsel shall stand,
and I will accomplish all my purpose,'
calling a bird of prey from the east,
the man of my counsel from a far country.
I have spoken, and I will bring it to pass;
I have purposed, and I will do it.

Captions: Top left - Lanier with an armful of kittens. Their names are Aloysius, Balliol, and Giles. Can anyone guess what or who they are named after? Top right - Natalie holding Hermia, one of the six lambs. Bottom center - Lanier had the idea to wear gardenias in our hair to church on Sunday! One person thought we were sisters.

All pictures by our resident photographer Philip Ivester.

Betsy, Tacy, and Tib

Last fall a YLCF reader commented that a picture of Gretchen, Lanier and myself reminded her of the friendship portrayed in the timeless books by Maud Hart Lovelace. Betsy, Tacy, and Tib. It only took me a moment to think which of us was which; the similarities are striking.

Tacy was the tallest. She had long red ringlets and freckles... Gretchen is most certainly Tacy. Her curly red hair and snapping green eyes leave no room for argument.

Tib was the smallest. She was little and dainty with round eyes and a fluff of yellow hair. She looked like a picture-book fairy, except, of course, that she didn't have wings. Lanier is similar to Tib in so many ways--although her personality is even more soft and sweet and she is even more beautiful! And she's a dancer--just like Tib.

Betsy was the middle-sized one. She was almost always smiling. At twelve she had been short, straight, and chunky with perky braids and a freckled, smiling face. At fourteen she was tall with a tendency to stoop. Her brown hair waved softly. Freckles were fading out of a pink and white skin. As a matter of face what one noticed first and liked best in Betsy were her eyes, clear hazel, under dark brows and lashes.

As for me--Natalie--Betsy is the only one left and I seem to be the most like her anyways, from the brown hair and freckles to her insatiable love of literature (it was because of Betsy Ray that I fell in love with Ivanhoe!), Europe, and writing. My own half-finished novels and stories done in pencil on scratch pads were scribbled with no less aspiration and fervor. I also have much of her sometimes-amusing romantic sensibilities.

Betsy's oldest and closest friend was red-haired Tacy Kelly. They had been loyal, loving chums, and they had been friends with Tib almost as long as they had been friends with each other. She and Tacy sat looking down Hill Street while the clouds in the sky behind Tacy's house turned pink. Their hands met and as always, unfailingly, joined in a loyal clasp.

Some friendships remain treasured for a lifetime. I count myself immensely blessed to have such friends as these who stick with me through the times of great celebration and heart-wrenching sorrow. Their loyalty proved true when they had nothing to gain from being true friends--when I needed them but had little to offer in return.

Yet such is one of the glories of godly, genuine friendship. They are not friends only when the relationship is comfortable, enjoyable, and mutually beneficial. They are friends when such means suffering with those who suffer, weeping with those who weep, and remaining steady and true despite the chaos.

This summer I get to visit both of these dear friends. In fact, today I fly to see Lanier! I look forward to sharing more during and after those days together.

- Photo of Natalie, Gretchen, and Lanier aka Betsy, Tacy, and Tib by Philip Ivester

An eternal cup of tea

I'm so thankful that we'll have an eternity in Heaven to fellowship with other believers. Our times together with other kindred spirits here on earth are altogether too short. We hadn't even finished our mochas and teas on Saturday before Merritt and I were saying goodbye to Garret and Melinda. (In fact, Melinda's tea was still too hot to drink.)

Grandma's 80th birthday party took us to Melinda's hometown this last weekend. Though we live in neighboring states, it's still almost a 10-hour drive. So even though we knew it would be quick, we had to get together to say hi. Melinda directed us to meet them at this "delightful little coffee shop". Merritt and I followed Google Map's directions implicitly, turning around multiple times to find the Avenues South instead of the Avenues North (reminding us muchly of a trip with Phillip and Lanier where following Google meant many turn-arounds as well), and when we finally found the right 3rd Ave, we parked in front of an empty building with signs saying "thank you for the 8 1/2 years of business." It wasn't the fault of Google Maps. It was the right coffee shop. It was just permanently closed.

I called and left a message on Melinda's cell phone. She called back mournful that her favorite coffee shop was closed, but laughing that it would have been the perfect set-up for an ambush or something. When we finally met up at a (newly-opened) coffee shop a bit later, we ordered our coffee and tea (all of us except Ruth--she is a bit under-age for caffeinated beverages), and sat down for a quick chat.

Melinda and I go way back to days of the "Editor's Circle", when she was editor of Inkblots Literary Magazine and I was still publishing the YLCF Journal. Then years later we really bonded, as only girls can do, over our hair. As fellow "Curly Girls", I was pleased to introduce Melinda to my soon-to-be curly daughter Ruth Ann. (Ruthie's hair shows much promise of curling, but it's a little short to do anything at the moment but stick up straight or lay down flat, unless well-oiled and gelled.)

The menfolk discussed more serious issues: mountain biking and broken legs. Both Merritt and Garret were/are avid mountain bikers. Both have broken a leg in the last two years. Neither accident was due to their biking hobby. Both are thankful to have nearly full use of their legs back. (And their womenfolk are thankful to have them off crutches!)

After years of sharing magazine editing and curly hair tips, I finally got to meet Melinda face-to-face at Merritt's and my wedding. And then her family came to visit our farm when Merritt was hopping around on crutches that first summer of our marriage. But we'd been planning another meeting for quite a while now, to meet her boyfriend Garret--whose leg we'd been praying for, with the experience of those who have been there.

A few cups of coffee and tea later, we're back home, and wishing we'd had a whole day, instead of half a cup of tea, with Garret and Melinda. (I actually thought we might when our car broke down--but a local parts shop was open late Saturday night with just the right radiator in stock, and my amazing husband knew how to put it in--but that's another story...) But we're already looking forward to next time.

If the Lord tarries, it will probably be at another coffee shop or the next wedding. Otherwise, it will be sipping from those eternal cups of tea at the wedding feast of the Lamb.

Teacups and Paintbrushes

January 12, 2008

Last week my sister-in-law had two of my friends and me for lunch. It had been arranged before Christmas, a flurry of emails having saved and secured the date, but as I set out on that dour January morning, it seemed to me that the timing of our little gathering was exquisitely providential. My mood was as heavy as the dark clouds piling in from the west; tears seemed even more imminent than raindrops and the headache that had been brewing with the approaching weather front was raging so violently I could hardly see straight. I pulled into her driveway with something like a sigh of relief and hauled myself out of the car, grateful only that I hadn’t gotten a speeding ticket on my way there as I had two days previously en route to meet two other friends for lunch…

Edie still had her Christmas wreath on the door—fresh and yet fragrant it was too lovely to take down. I gazed at it rather mournfully, luxuriating a bit in my post-holiday blues. But before I had a chance to knock the door swung open, and there stood Edie, smiling in her radiantly gentle way, and beyond her, Ashley and Debra, waiting to receive me with hugs and smiles of their own. Is there any medicine on earth so potent as the embrace of a friend?

I forgot my headache. I dismissed my Janu-weary mood, for what place had it in this little sanctuary of beauty and warmth? The 1920’s bungalow was aglow with candlelight, and soft French music lilted through the rooms. A collective gasp went up at the sight of our table, for a more daintily feminine array cannot be imagined. There were place cards (with appropriately deco script), and the damask cloth was laid with every possible accouterment for a ladies’ tea: antique china, vintage silver, a tiered cake plate boasting everything from homemade scones to macaroons and melt-in-your-mouth truffles. On the sideboard stood enticing decanters of chilled lemonade, with crystal goblets at the ready. And everywhere I cast my eye, it seemed, were sweet little bottles and vases of pink and white spray roses. Pretty as a Valentine; proper as an English tea room.

Edie brought out the soup course while I poured the tea, and then we fell to the feast of fellowship with as much relish as we polished off the roasted red pepper soup, and the mushroom and pine nut quiche that followed. Our conversation took a delightfully meandering course, as it only can in the hands of like-minded ladies. We discussed everything from organic gardening to vacuum cleaners, touching on politics, homeschooling and needlepoint, each in their turn.

But over all our talk, it seemed, a shining mantle was cast, a high vision of beauty’s worth that infused every subject with a strange sort of lowly nobility. Time and again we came back to one of the tenets of our homemaker’s hearts: the value and validity of loveliness. The power of beauty, in its simplest and purest sense, to speak audibly of the presence of Jesus Christ in our lives. Beauty is of Him, from Him, for Him. Beauty has a language that transcends even the finest words, that soars above our sweetest experiences in this life and whispers to our souls of what heaven will be.

Debra and Ashley are painters, artists in both life and craft. It has been beautiful for me to watch the former inspire and instruct the latter, pouring herself out, as it were, to the enrichment of a friend’s creative world. As a homeschooling mother of three, Debra could easily justify the forestallment of her own artistic desires. But instead, she’s set an example for the three of us childless women not to deny the significance of our own unique and God-given talents, even in the whirl of a houseful of teenagers. Creativity is a hidden spring, feeding the deep wells of our personalities. And when that spring is tended, unclogged and running true, cups of cold water in His name abound. We give of ourselves, because there is something there to give.

Ashley has approached the discipline of oils with courage and joy (almost she makes me want to paint…not quite. I’m not that brave!). I love to go into her house and see a new work in progress lying on the dining room table, or to catch that light that comes into her eyes when she’s describing some technique that Debra’s entrusted to her. Ashley doesn’t want to have her works in the Met, or even make a living off her paintbrush. She wants beautiful things of her own making on the walls of her home; she wants to give gifts that are indeed a portion of herself. When one considers that her whole life is a gift, that being around her is one of the most energizing occupations I can think of, it appears that the hours spent mixing paints and poring over a canvas are a perfectly natural and even necessary replenishment for her.

Into the midst of all our high talk that afternoon, Ashley slipped an analogy she’d heard in a sermon that caught my fancy in a compelling way. She gave us a picture of our callings: Some of us are tiny watercolor brushes, with only a few strands, intended for the most delicate of detail work. And the range goes all the way up to those big industrial paint rollers that can cover a whole wall in minutes. If you asked a watercolor brush to coat the side of a building it would be a disaster that ended in despair. And a paint roller would wreak havoc upon a little violet in a cut glass vase. Is the paint roller more important, more valid, because it covers a greater area with speed and efficiency? Is a Winsor & Newton more extraordinary merely because it is able to capture the rare beauties of life that might otherwise have been trodden underfoot? We all know the answer—in our heads. Both have their place and their job to do. And it’s a job that is certainly never going to get done by looking around at the other brushes nearby and comparing oneself to their bristle size and handle length. Or their subject matter, for that. And just as an artist will rifle through many brushes in the creation of one painting, we will doubtless find that the Master Painter will bring varying sizes of implements to bear upon the living landscapes we’re all creating, day in and day out.

And, if you happen to be a watercolor brush, don’t be mistaken in thinking that you cannot have a far-reaching impact in this world for beauty and truth. In a recent (and umpteenth!) viewing of the movie Miss Potter, I was struck by something she said regarding her own art: “I’m not very good at landscapes,” with a somewhat regretful glance over a sweep of Lake District loveliness. But Beatrix Potter was good at animals. And charming little stories that revealed their dignity to untold numbers of children the world over. She did not set out to write the best-selling children’s books of all time, or to almost single-handedly save the Lake District. She was just brave enough to be good at what she was good at. And there’s not a one of us alive who should not be grateful to her for it.

In like manner, Edie was merely living in her gifts that day. Hospitality, gentleness and grace; the touch of an artist upon her table and the rooms of her home. She gave of herself in that little luncheon for four, and created an environment for edification to flourish. It took time and great care, and a painterly attention to detail. (And if she wasn’t the immaculately tidy housekeeper I know her to be, I’d say she was still washing dishes!) She refreshed us from a source both deep and true, and I feel safe in assuming that she was refreshed in the process. This is beauty’s seal and signature: a mutual joy and a glory to God.

Nurturing Intimacy in a Facebook Generation

With the conclusion of the GodBlogCon conference this past weekend, now seemed an opportune time to publish this piece I wrote back in June. There is so much that could be said on the topic and I know this barely scratches the surface...but it is an attempt to begin The Conversation.

I've been hesitant to post this--wanting to be careful that it was done thoughtfully and with care. JM Reynolds published a brief piece yesterday of which one line convinced me to go ahead. He wrote: "It is now simpler to multi-task with a virtual friend, rather than go to the bother of going to see a real friend . . . who will demand that I pay attention and not do five other things while talking to him." Our generation is in danger of forgetting the depth and quality of relationships, all in the name of instant communication, "efficiency," and networking. While the rest of the world texts, pokes, relates in thirty second intervals let's not go along with it. Let's live for something better.

Perhaps it is the romantic, day-dreamy, lover of all things old-fashioned in me that balks at hearing of a friend's engagement on Facebook. I do not relish the idea of learning such news from text on a computer screen instead of through the joyous tones of her own dear voice.

What happened to the days when a couple would call, write, or visit their family and friends, celebrating their engagement and upcoming marriage through many evenings of talk, food, and laughter? How old fashioned. How...satisfying. Engagement announcements on Facebook are just one example of the instantaneous, information-overloaded culture mediums such as the Internet promote.

Behold the day in which the Lord has placed us. Whether typing on a website or in a word processor, every misspelling or grammatical error is pointed out with red lines and suggested corrections. (Is spelling even taught in schools anymore? What about handwriting?) Instead of unique facial expressions, mannerisms and tones of voice, everyone is restricted to the same smiley, black and white text, and the attempt to communicate in cold silent words when 90% of communication is nonverbal.

The newest computer can merely compound, at speed, the oldest problem in the relations between human beings, and in the end the communicator will be confronted with the old problem, of what to say and how to say it. - Edward R. Murrow

Effort is required if one desires to nurture authentic intimate relationships in our culture. It does not come about as naturally as in ages past when life centered around the family unit. We are better connected than ever before and yet…perhaps more disconnected than ever before from what really matters. What might those things be?

We are disconnected from Others.
It may be ironic that an article on the limitations and hindrances of the internet will be published online and distributed via RSS feed to thousands of readers. In this day and age one of the most powerful methods of communication is an online blog post. People often do not have or take time for full-length books. How many today would sit down to read Shakespeare or Dickens or Hugo? Is it really too hard to understand or are we just indifferent to anything requiring more effort than skimming a website?

If ever the phrase “too much information” were true, it is now. We are daily slapped with way too much information. In the 1600’s a well-read individual had worked through all of the great literary works in history. Even if I sat down and did nothing but read the "best of the best" I could not hope to finish that list before I was 100. I am reminded of the disconcerting fact once heard that one daily issue of today's New York Times contains more information than a person of the seventeenth century would be exposed to in a lifetime. Too much information.

Are we better off because we know so much? We can share articles, ideas, pictures, and videos--but do we purposefully, sacrificially share our lives with one another? Do we have better, deeper friendships because we can text, email, instant message, and poke our friends 24/7? Hardly.

While knowledgeably implementing and appreciating the good things our advanced communication systems bring, we must remain aware of the dangers. Instant communication can breed impatience and encourage relationships to remain in shallow territory. I wonder...what affect might be wrought on friends or a family who endeavored to read David Copperfield together? Or even The Voyage of the Dawn Treader? Even something as short as Ephesians would bring great blessing.

We are disconnected from Creation.
I’ll be candid. Facebook overwhelms me. The other day I clicked on my “Friends” page to see what updates my relatively small number of “friends” had made and felt my brain freeze. Too much information!

All I wanted to do was take a pen, paper, and book written before the invention of light bulbs and disappear into the woods where there was no sign or sound of anything made by human hands. So I did. Oh, what about my cell phone? Just kidding. :smile:

It felt....good. The pleasure of sitting in His creation enjoying some of the finest writing of all time beats surfing blogs hands down. I mean really, this experience is on a completely different level of classification!

Granted, one can take a laptop outside and enjoy nature while doing work online, but most of us who do not live on a farm spend too little time outdoors. Our bodies would be healthier, our minds sharper, and our hearts more at peace if even ten minutes a day were spent enjoying His creation. Just a thought...

We are disconnected from Ourselves.

My friends, my profile, my extended-info video-voice-chat mp3-player list of favorites. It’s all about me. Does anyone need to know what my favorite music or interests are? If they do not know me as a person well enough to remember or learn what I enjoy, is this the solution? Does anyone read those things anyway (I don’t)?

Let's be vigilant to not waste time updating things about ourselves and focus on improving and understanding ourselves. Digging beyond favorite movies, what have you learned and believe about bioethics, or the recent events in Pakistan, or what you studied in devotions yesterday? What do you know and believe as Truth? What are your non-negotiable convictions? How can you be actively pursuing growth intellectually, spiritually, physically? To learn this of oneself and others is to find significance.

We are disconnected from Peace.
There are exceptions to the maze of online confusion. In my opinion, Lanier’s Books is the most beautiful, restful, soothing place one can go to online. Just clicking to the home page and letting it fill my screen can relax me when I’m stressing over HTML or work! Simple, quiet--one almost feels as if she is stepping back in time one hundred years. Even the style of writing is reminiscent of another era.

Peace and quiet are not optional luxuries. They are not simply indicators of inefficiency and repose. They are vital to our being complete as human beings. When is the last time I did not have five things needing to be done--or were trying to do five things at once? When did I just sit, without music or talking or reading and just be for a few minutes? When did I seek His peace for the day, His guidance for the next moment?

Seeking Intimacy
Despite my tongue-in-cheek criticism of the website, I'll likely keep my profile on Facebook. There is a group of YLCF readers there after all. And yes, I use an RSS reader to keep track of important websites. Of course, you obviously know that I am a die-hard blogger. None of these things are wrong in moderation. It's just that when I experienced mental meltdown a few days back from the assault of meaningless trivia, I wondered if others are fighting the same battle.

Are you? If so...what can we do about it? What will you do about it? I for one shall drink tea and read Plato during a cold November afternoon. I will pray and plead with the Lord to guide me in the way I should go. I will put down the cell phone and pick up pen and paper. I will invest in my relationships in ways that will have lasting value.

Let's not forget to nurture intimacy. Let's fight for authenticity and quality. Let's redeem the time for the days are evil.

Maidens Quest Ministries

Written in September: Two sets of sisters are leading the third Maiden's Quest retreat next week. From origins in Texas, the September retreat is being held in Seattle and plans for more are in the works. It has thrilled my heart to see Katrina and Tara heading up this much-needed ministry for young ladies and we are excited to help spread the word.

Katrina writes: "Tara and I have been friends for many years, but due to the distance between our homes, we have only been able to see each other at select times throughout each year. In September of 2006, we met up again at a mutual friend’s wedding, much to our delight!

"As we visited together about the things of the Lord and the latest ministry opportunities He had given us, we discovered a like-hearted passion for investing in the lives of young ladies. Having both experienced the tremendous blessing of Godly older role models during our teen years, we shared a similar burden to faithfully pass on the baton of encouragement to younger girls now facing the choices that come with growing up....

"An idea came to me that I now know was from the Lord. What if Tara and I could join forces and host some sort of retreat, conference, or weekend event for the young ladies we knew? The event could provide edifying messages, feminine skill-building opportunities, and an atmosphere for encouraging fellowship."

Caption: Katelin, Tara, Katrina, and Kelly, the leaders of the Maiden's Quest retreat for young ladies.

YLCF Team member reunion

You'd think it would have happened before now. After all, we've been friends for years, are both pastor's kids, missionary kids, homeschool graduates, have lived in Japan....and on and on the list goes. I tried to meet her when I lived in Okinawa but the ticket prices prevented. :sigh: I did enjoy my first phone conversations with her then.

She tried to meet me a year ago when she was in the States for a few weeks. I don't remember all the details but I know I was in Israel part of that time. It didn't work. And I was sad.

I was jealous when I heard she and Ashleigh got to meet. Two of my favorite people...I wanted to see them too. Then I had 48 hours notice that I was going to California. Turns out I have a 4 hour layover in Denver. Finally!!

It is easy to think of one word to describe April. Beautiful. She's such a dear. I just wish we had more time together. It was not enough.

We only had a couple hours so we found a table overlooking the Denver Airport fountains and talked. And talked and talked and talked. It didn't feel like I'd just "met" her. Instead, I was sure I was being reunited with an old friend: comfortable, and just nice. I think we covered pretty near every topic under the sun.

My best girlfriends all live hundreds of miles from me. That does not make them any less precious.

Who to tell?

In my last post I shared a bit of a conversation I had with a reader on why telling your peers about a crush or attraction may not be wise in many/most cases. That being said, who should you tell when you have struggles? I often mention "mentors" in my writing--and anyone who has been around me for very long has no doubt heard me mention one of "my mentors" with great fondness.

I don't want to think about what my life would be like without those older (whether by two years or twenty), godly women who listen, advise, and support me. When a crisis occurs, a disappointment hits, or something wonderful happens, my first instinct is to tell my mom, my sissy, and my mentor(s). Recently during a particularly painful month one thought kept running through my head:

"I want to see Lanier."

Anyone who has spent even a few minutes in the company of this beautiful Southern belle understands why a visit with Lanier was--still is--at the top of my list of must-dos before I get married. She is an absolute gem! For over a year now we've sought to talk on the phone once a week. At times we were keeping each other accountable regarding writing projects, personal devotions, or other things. Sometimes we attempted to keep up with all the events in each other's lives...and sometimes I just needed a listening ear and sympathetic heart.

Last year I spent time with Lanier at her Green Gables home (it really is--sometime maybe we can convince her to post pictures!) and no day was complete without at least one quiet hour (usually three or four--we never ran out of things to talk about!) drinking tea and fellowshipping. I will never forget our picnic in the park, our tea at the elegant hotel, the evening in downtown Atlanta (see picture), and the cozy mornings by her kitchen fireplace.

Lanier is not the first in my life to bless me in this way. A single missionary currently in Poland, Ruth Dauber, always takes time to catch up with me on her furloughs. For the past five years I've respected her as the kind of faithful, righteous woman I hope to be someday. Mrs. Jennie Chancey is another; I still re-read the letters she's sent me over the years. If you've read Quest for the High Places, you've been introduced to many of my mentors--they were the first ones I interviewed for the project!

Who can serve as a voice of wisdom to you? Who can you turn to who is further down the path, who can provide some guidance as you navigate some of the tricky steps? Do not expect someone to drop into your lap--be proactive. A mentor will only bear the value you place on her; in my life they are priceless.

Related links:
Who not to tell?
LAF's article "Qualifications of a Mentor"

Who not to tell?

Recently a reader and I exchanged rapid-fire dialogue on a topic that seemed "of sufficiently general interest" to post. If you disagree, well, come back tomorrow. :-) (The reader's text is in italics and mine (Natalie's) is plain text.)

Your "Letter to a younger sister" was very good, but I have to admit that I have shared at length with a dear sister in Christ, my un-requited like/admiration/attraction for a certain gentlemen, and through talking and praying about it with her, it has helped me a great deal through the years. My parents do know, and I've talked with Mom quite a bit about it.

What is your explanation for not sharing one's pain with a close friend who one trusts implicitly? Please help me understand what you mean. Do you think it should be a general rule? Why exactly? (And I don't mean, giggling and going over all his good points...I mean true anguish of the soul-please-pray for me-I can't get him out of my head...)

I hope you don't mind me asking, I have been greatly blessed by many of your writings and this one point you've written about a couple times puzzles me.

When you say, "I mean true anguish of the soul" my heart clenches in empathy. I am not far removed from days when the emotional pain grew so intense that I could not stop the tears. Actually, emotional pain does not stop in courtship! But as concerns this brand of soul anguish...yes, I remember. Sometimes actual physical pain comes, the heartache is so strong. This is no small trial.

I am not qualified to lay down a general rule; this is one young woman's perspective, so if it is a rule at all, it is one she lives by because of experience and the guidance of others. Before letting girlfriends know about an attraction/admiration for some young man, what about searching your heart?

Do your parents and/or a godly older mentor know your thoughts? Are they in tune with your heart and able to hold you accountable? If their advice and a girlfriend's do not line up, what will you do? What is your purpose in sharing? Aside from your own needs, will your sharing risk any harm or be a less-than-loving act for the hearer? Do all your words honor the person you admire? Has the hearer earned your trust?

It is quite a different thing to share with one confidant than to share with all your girlfriends--and the motives in your action are the key. I would still recommend sharing with someone who can be in more of a mentor position--older, with more wisdom--than a peer. But it is not a blanket statement that can be applied in all cases.

Does that help?

Thank you. It does help a great deal in understanding what you meant. It would seem from many things I've read that you and Gretchen are such confidants? Very sweet.

Yes we are. She has withstood years of my heart agonies!

So how different would you compare infatuation with being in-love??

These short answers are no way intended to be comprehensive, but as a brief answer....love is not a feeling of admiration, "like" etc. Infatuation is. There is nothing wrong with infatuation when it is for someone you are in a committed relationship with. But in and of itself, it is not enough. Love is a choice that must be made carefully....only after it is made can you let the feelings have free reign--and my do they want to! They want to be first, and not wait their turn.
Voddie Baucham's definition of Biblical love is excellent: "Love is an act of the will, accompanied by emotion that leads to action on the behalf of its object."

Just an additional note...there is nothing inherently sinful about admiring someone--I just know that I have most of the time regretted sharing that admiration/like with others besides a close mentor. It's just wise to exercise much caution--and it is very hard.

Thoughts on Singleness, Marriage, and Purity- Part Five

From "The Closing of the American Mind":

The state of nature should culminate in a contract, which constitutes a society out of individuals. A contract requires not only a common interest between the contracting parties but also an authority to enforce its fulfillment by them. In the absence of the former, there is no relationship; in the absence of the later, there can be no trust, only diffidence.

In the state of nature concerning friendships and love today, there is doubt about both, and the result is a longing for the vanished common ground, called roots, without the means to recover it, and timidity and self-protectiveness in associations guaranteed by neither nature nor convention. The pervasive feeling that love and friendship are groundless, perhaps the most notable aspect of the current feeling of groundlessness, has caused them to give way to the much vaguer and more personal idea of commitment, that choice in the void whose cause resides only in the will or the self. The young want to make commitments, which constitute the meaning of life, because love and nature do not suffice. This is what they talk about, but they are haunted by the awareness that the talk does not mean very much and that commitments are lighter than air. (109)

"I would even want the pupil and governor to regard themselves as so inseparable that the lot of each in life is always a common object for them. As soon as they envisage from afar their separation, as soon as they foresee the moment which is going to make them strangers to one another, they are already strangers. Each sets up his own little separate system; and both engrossed by the time they will no longer be together, stay only reluctantly." (Emile by Rousseau, p. 53, Bloom, Basic Books, 1979)

"The possibility of separation is already the fact of separation, inasmuch as people today must plan to be whole and self-sufficient, and cannot risk interdependence."

- submitted by David Eastman

Sisterhood

One of my dearest friends moved away today. To be sure, not away away—Birmingham is little more than a two hour drive, and I visit there quite often as another of my dearest friends lives there as well. But she’s not here anymore. I can’t meet her for coffee on a busy errand day, savoring the sanity of good conversation, a refuge in the midst of the city’s roar. I can’t run over to her house for tea and prayer when I need it.

I don’t know that I ever really took that for granted, but now that she’s gone I feel like I need it more than ever. This move is actually one of the things we prayed for together and I am more than thrilled about the way that God answered. I wouldn’t wish her back for the world. I just miss her.

This sister prayed with me and for me through one of the most difficult seasons of my life. She walked with me into darkness and when the light dawned she saw it with her own eyes. We have wept and laughed together. We have come boldly before God’s throne together. She has seen my ‘yuck’ and loved me unflinchingly. You just can’t be too grateful for a friend like that.

Friendship among Christians is absolutely one of the most beautiful things that I have ever seen in my life. When I look around me at the companions I have been privileged to walk with in this great journey home, I seriously want to fall down on my knees and thank God with tears. Helen Keller said, ‘My friends have made the story of my life,’ and I know exactly what she was talking about. The sisters God has surrounded me with have lived holy lives before me and they have made me want to be holy. They have been honest about their struggles and given me the infinite honor of observing how the Lord is working in them, conforming them to His image. I have seen them brave in their trials, steadfast in their sorrows, delirious in their joy. And I have been eternally impacted by it.

Without them, without the realities I see in them, I really believe that my concept of God would be but a poor, small thing. We need to see Him, beautiful, tender, wounded, merciful, compassionate, real in one another. And we need to let them see Him in us. It’s part of the deal. It’s ‘Jesus with skin on’.

Those friends whom thou hast, and their affection tried,
grapple to thy soul with bands of iron.

- Shakespeare

- by Lanier Ivester
September 18

Thoughts on Friendship

C. S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien on the mysterious glory of friendship...

"Is there any pleasure on earth as great as a circle of friends by a fire?"
-from The Letters of C.S. Lewis

"The next best thing to being wise oneself is to live in a circle of those who are."
- C.S. Lewis, Selected Literary Essays, "Hamlet: The Prince or the Poem"

"You can trust us to stick to you through thick and thin--to the bitter end. And you can trust us to keep any secret of yours -- closer than you can keep it yourself. But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a word. We are your friends."
- The Fellowship of the Ring

Friendship is the greatest of worldly goods. Certainly to me it is the chief happiness of life. If i had to give a piece of advice to a young man about a place to live, I think I should say, "sacrifice almost everything to live where you can be near your friends." I know I am very fortunate in that respect.
- C.S. Lewis

A former New Attitude author...Life in Alaska

I'd like to highlight a website of interest: Rebecca Livermore wrote for the New Attitude magazine and now has her own site Walk in the Light. Materials is only beginning to appear; the sections on the spiritual disciplines, particularly journaling and Bible study, look promising.

Life in Alaska brings new and tougher challenges than ever before--I am still seeking how to juggle my new tasks with current obligations such as my apprenticeship and the YLCF. Thank you for your forbearance.

Today Kari (right in photo--whose poetry will be appearing here soon!) and her family took me hiking in the mountains. Twas one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen--right up there next to Interlaken, Switzerland. The response to such grandeur I could manage were tears. Beauty can be painful in its height and depth. Friendship is the same. God blessed me with ample measures of both today...which made up for being stranded when my vehicle broke down on the way home (hurray for friends who live nearby who won't mind being woken up to give me a ride)!

Before the mountains were formed, even from everlasting to everlasting Thou art God.

Interview Part Four

On Relationships and Goals

If there is one person who has encouraged you in your spiritual walk more than others, who is it?

Jeannie: I’m blessed to have not just one person who has encouraged my spiritual walk, but several. My parents are the first on my list. Without question, they are the ones who have helped me the most. They have spent hours praying with and for me, counseling, encouraging, instructing, and nurturing this “babe in Christ.” Without their influence I would be in a sorry state, indeed!

I also have to mention two very special friends. Sonja and I grew up about a mile apart, but we didn’t become close friends until we reached college age! Over the past several years, we’ve gotten to know each other “inside out.” She’s married now and lives far away, but we’re still extremely close. (And I get to see her a few times a year when she comes home to visit her family!)

Sarah also lives far away. We’ve never met (or even talked on the phone!) but we have a very close friendship anyway. Both girls have challenged and encouraged me in my spiritual walk. They have taught me to look for what God is doing in my life, to think about what He’s teaching me, and to be honest with myself and others. Between the two of them and my mom, I’m held accountable, rebuked, encouraged, and refreshed.

Lanier: My wonderful husband. Without a doubt he has lived out the kind of Christian life I aspire to. I love his faith, his simple and unconditional confidence in God, his devotion to the Word. His example even before we were ‘together’ and later his loving encouragement have served to motivate me to get rid of immature ideas about God and besetting fears. I am unspeakably grateful. Truly, he ‘washes me with the water of the Word’…

Natalie: There is not one, but many. Authors such as C.S. Lewis, Sheldon Vanauken, John Piper, Elisabeth Elliot, John White, and Michael Phillips have held much influence. My parents certainly have challenged me for the past 22 years and had a more continual affect and encouragement than anyone else.

Lanier has been a wonderful mentor to me the past year; Mrs. Jennie Chancey had a huge influence on me through college years to the present. I have been blessed with brothers who have spurred me upwards and strengthened me in ways I can only thank God for. To pinpoint one person is impossible. I am richly blessed.

Besides being a wife and mother, what other desire/burden/passion do you have (i.e. abandoned children, spreading the gospel, having your own business, etc.)

Jeannie: I guess I would put it a bit differently. My primary calling and purpose in life is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. Living a life that pleases Him is my calling – being a wife and mother comes under the heading of desire/burden/passion. It is my desire, if God so wills, to be a submissive, supportive wife and a crown to my husband.

I also hope to be a mother and raise my children in godliness. I have a real passion for pouring my life into my husband and children – I can’t think of anything better! But I can’t say that’s my calling (for one thing, because I’m not married yet!). God may have other plans for me, and I know what He wants from me – full surrender, regardless of what my life looks like.

Elisabeth: Sharing the riches of Christ one-on-one and by my writing...sharing the rich insight-packed, adventure-filled place that is Israel with others the same way...seeing this world become "the Kingdom of the Lord and of His Christ," one heart at a time, through the power of prayer and the indwelling, lived-out Word.

Lanier: Writing. I have a deep desire to reach out through my words to ladies I’ll never meet and speak to their hearts of the goodness of God and the almost unbearable beauty and joy of life in Him.

Natalie: I think I shall always be involved in foreign missions and evangelism, in ministry to young women etc. simply because such is commanded in Scripture. It is all a part of living in the Kingdom and belonging to the Father. My especial burden is for needy children (Holt International, Samaritan's Purse, the persecuted church (Voice of the Martyrs), Islamic nations in the 10-40 window (Arab World Ministries, Malaga Media Center of Avant), China's underground church, and human trafficking and abuse (International Justice Mission). Click on all those organizations to go to their websites--they are fabulous and have tons of opportunities to get involved!

Just Acquaintances

Webster defines a friend as "one attached to another by affection or esteem."

An acquaintance, however, is defined as "a person whom one knows but who is not a particularly close friend."

Therein, I believe, lies the answer to much of this discussion.

Merritt is my best friend, my most trusted confidant, my closest companion. He reads my thoughts. He understands me even when I don't understand myself. He can finish my sentences.

A friend like that comes only once in a lifetime.

Natalie is my closest girlfriend. She knows my secrets. She is the first one I call about anything and everything. She knows what I mean even when I don't say it right.

A girlfriend like that is a rare find.

There are a few others who have known me long and well. I can count on them being there for me.

The rest are all acquaintances, at best.

There are girls who have really truly had close guy friends with whom there was nothing but friendship, on both sides. I know it can be done. But not everyone can do it.

As to me and mine, even though we both loved each other long before we expressed it, we yet kept it to a "just friends" level. Yes, we were very close friends. But we were still only friends, though we loved each other. And through the trials and testings and tears, our friendship was deepened, our growing love purified.

But it isn't all fairy tales. Natalie has written one book, and is in the process of writing another, with real-life stories and help for long term healing from a broken relationship or friendship-gone-bad. Her book also discusses how to relate to guys in a pure and loving manner before courtship. Visit HeartThoughts Publications for more details on Natalie's book, Quest for the High Places.

The truth is, real life courtships are much more than just paint by numbers. We can't put God in a box. He rarely works the same way twice.

As one anonymous commenter put it, "A list of rules is not helpful except to keep us thinking we are doing 'it' right. I found it much harder to keep my heart then follow rules. And no one can do it for you."

Whether you call them friends, or just acquaintances, don't be afraid to get to know the guys in your life. God didn't intend for us to live completely segregated lives before marriage, and only talk to one man after. He made men with humor, skills, and perspectives different from ours. The guys in our lives can be to us as iron sharpening iron.

Be careful. Put up boundaries. Ask your parents to give you guidelines. Ask a girl friend to keep you accountable.

You can be just acquaintances.

But even so, you may be hurt. To sum it up:

"There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no-one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully around with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is hell."

-C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

"Just Friends"?

Is it possible to be "just friends" with a guy?

I'll never know.

I fell in love with the first guy friend I ever had.

Five weeks from Saturday, he will become my husband.

But it doesn't always happen that way.

It was easy to be "just friends" with everyone else after I met Merritt. I had lots of guy friends, through drama troupe, Summit ministries, and the church youth group. But they were all just my "brothers." If anyone got too friendly, I was quick to point out that I was already taken.

I couldn't always make my love for Merritt public knowledge. But I wore a purity ring on my left ring finger. And whenever someone tried to match me up, I held it up and stated, "I'm already taken--by my future husband, whoever he is!"

A few poems I wrote back then (cheesey though they are) illustrate the point of view I took: "I am a married woman"..."I belong to another".

Without the love of your life already in view, it's a lot harder to be "just friends" with every guy you meet. But maye, like Kathleen Kelly in "You've Got Mail," you can say, "No, but there's the dream of someone else..."

Stay true to that dream. Pretend your future husband is there beside you, watching. And maybe you'll find that it really is possible to be "just friends in a just do it world."

Meanwhile, remember, "Your life partner will be chosen from your circle of friends." Choose wisely who you hang out with.

And when you think there might be the spark of something more, give it time, time, and more time. In the words of Ella Wheeler Wilcox, "All love that has not friendship for its base, is like a mansion built upon the sand." But true friendship takes time. Let love to grow naturally, through friendship and time.

That way, if you give your friendship time, and love does not grow, you still have a friend. For as Charles Caleb Colton said, "Friendship often ends in love; but love in friendship - never."

Click here for more on friendship, love, and time.

Golden Days

I’ve just had one of the goldenest of golden days with my best girl friend.

She’s here from Australia, whence she wandered when she married her true love almost ten years ago. Every time I go up to her former home—almost an hour outside of the city and set on a hill commanding views of rolling pasture land and neighboring farms—I feel the years slipping away. I remember the endless walks we’ve taken through scenery as lovely as an English countryside. The lively conversations in the wee small hours of the morning, our Bibles spread open on our laps and the music of a whippoorwill outside the open window. Lazy afternoons on the porch swing and picnic lunches and midnight snacks.

On her last visit we had tea on the front porch overlooking the old memory-haunted valley where we’d spent so many happy afternoons as girls. We laughed at the time that had passed, and pretended like it was ten years ago and that we still had all of our dreams and visions before us.

“Only our skirts were longer then,” I smiled, glancing down at our almost identical, chic knee-length numbers.

“And there weren’t all these lovely children!” she declared, snuggling her little girl who had sidled up with her own tiny tea cup. We both laughed at the parade of small boys who just then marched onto the porch with muddy boots and stick swords.

“What children?” I cried. “Why, these are all just little fairies!”

But this week we went for one last ramble through the valley in its springtime glory. Sadly—tragically—development is lurking beyond its pastoral charms and its days are numbered. As we tramped down the drive there was a great mingling of joy and sorrow in my heart. I thought, unavoidably, of the coming destruction, and my imaginative mind made all manner of parallels to the eroding values of this modern day—what Sir John Betjeman so tellingly calls the ‘age without a soul’.

However, the joy of this beautiful friendship and all it represented, the life God had blessed us with and the dreams He had fulfilled in all the years since we’d been there together swelled within me as a wordless song of praise. My spirit kept whispering thanks to Him for His great beauty and goodness. My happiness was beyond expression and my dear friend knew it.

We slipped through the gate and ambled down a light-filled pasture, our feet crunching on the tussocks of grass, our every sense awake to the fleeting gifts of loveliness that dear realm had to offer.

“The last time I walked here I was in a medieval gown with roses in my hair!” I laughed. Visions of knights and ladies danced before me, imaginary feats of derring-do, cows that became henchmen of an evil prince and an old vine slung between two trees that was a swing for the fairies.

I wore jeans this time, and my hair was in braids. In place of the faithful old Sheltie, ‘Bear’ a new companion fittingly named ‘Merrie’ frisked about in the grass just ahead of us. And two little boys pranced along beside, their eager commentary supplanting the giddy chatter of days gone by. So we went, past a pond holding a cup of sky, through a patch of wood, down, down to the valley itself, all green and gorgeous, with a little river cut through its heart, red-banked and overhung with budding trees.

The boys scampered down the path and I watched them with delight. A five year-old, slim and spry, with a darling mop of hair and the eyes of a poet; a three and-a-half year-old, adorably pudgy and utterly devoted to his big brother, trotting along behind pumping his fat little arms. Like Christopher Robin and Pooh Bear. Like the children my friend had envisioned so long ago.

We settled ourselves on a soft bit of grass in the sunshine and watched them play on the sandy bank. Murmuring softly over our cherished memories—in between removing little socks and shoes and forming the clumps of clay we were presented with into cubes and spheres—we honored the past. Our past, beautiful, maidenly, and sweet. And, in our hearts, we honored our wonderful Lord who is ‘righteous in all His ways and loving toward all He has made’.

Ten years ago this very spring we were light-hearted girls, gathering dreams for the future with as little care as we picked posies of violets on the wooded hill beyond the valley. I remember it yet—what we ate on our picnic, what we talked about. How I confided to her my dream of a ‘bit of earth’ and a man who loved the land. How her eyes grew soft over the plans for her coming wedding. How we both sighed over the romance of her unfolding love story and the devotion of her Australian sheep rancher.

It amazes me now to see how we’ve both grown since then, and how quickly ten years can fly. What figurative valleys God has led us through, and what sunshine His presence has been! What lessons we’ve learned and what loving cautions we’d give our younger selves if we could. We’re older now, and hopefully wiser, but deep inside we’re still those same girls. Idealistic enough to really believe that God is good; hopelessly in love with our husbands—who were but dreams back then; in awe of the Lover of our souls. And with a world of beautiful hopes for the future stored up between us.

Those friends whom thou hast, and their affection tried, grapple to thy soul with bands of iron. Shakespeare

- by Lanier