Summer stretching on the grass.

It’s been a difficult, yet somewhat encouraging, week. The best part is that I have some great friends who won’t allow me to stay down. We have breakfast, make silly trips to Cargo Largo, text about absurd church signs, listen to records over lunch and watch Ren and Stimpy together. Oh yeah, we also talk.

I think it’s tempting to sometimes think of people’s role in our lives only as a convenient pick-me-up. God has obviously placed them in my life and they serve occasionally in this capacity, but as I mulled this over, I began to realize just how selfish and utilitarian this thinking is. Sure, I have no doubt these friends and family try to lift me up, but I think our exchange is far more rich than that.

Are my friends here to serve me or am I here to serve my friends? I’d like to think that I still have much to offer, that I can help them be better people, as well. This is what keeps me going and can get me out of the house when I just want to close the blinds and take a nap.


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