Gold

 September 9, 2020

“Make new friends but keep the old; One is silver, the other gold.” So goes an old poem. More than forty years ago, we became friends with Howie and Sue. We were fresh out of seminary, at our first full time appointment, and walked for the first time into the parsonage that would be our home for the next four years. Howie was a builder, and was remodeling the kitchen. As Linda walked through the door, he turned around, stepped down from his ladder and said, “Darn! I thought they said they were sending Farrah Faucett!” And so it began. 

He and I had a running contest to see whose garage was the messiest, and it was a rare day when he didn’t have some comment for Linda, or she for him. For some reason, he once challenged me to grow a beard contest. The best he could do was a few stray hairs on his chin, but that challenge was the origin of the whiskers I’ve had ever since. It was one of those rare friendships where both the women and the men were best friends. When Linda got super glue in her contact lenses, it was Sue (a nurse) who came racing over, prying her eye open and flushing out the contact. Fortunately, the glue only got on the contact itself.

The church we pastored then had a treasurer who acted as if every cent they paid me were coming out of his own pocket. His wife once actually told me that they were the poorest people in town and didn’t believe we should earn more than them. So when the church refused to give me a raise to meet the conference minimum, Howie and Sue started writing personal checks to us. I contacted the District Superintendent about it, worried about how it would look and whether it was permitted. “You can’t stop someone from doing with their money what they want to do,” I was told. We somewhat reluctantly accepted their monthly gift about which they never said anything.

Life has taken us in different directions, and our opportunities to get together have been rare, but they were in Buffalo for some medical appointments, and we arranged to get together for dinner. It has been eight years since we did this last. How is it that with some people, a mere month or two, and you don’t even miss them, but with others, you pick right up where you left off eight years ago? We talked for hours, laughing, reminiscing, catching up, and praying. Soon they will be back in Florida; we can’t know if we’ll ever see them again. None of us are getting any younger. But our mutual faith in Christ that has brought all of us through some very difficult times and woven the bonds of love between us is our hope and confidence. We are nearer the finish line than the starting blocks, and though our steps are a bit slower, we’re still running the race set before us, with joy and everlasting hope. It’s hard parting tonight, but it is made easier knowing that our dearest golden friends share our same destination in Christ, our Lord.