Friends with pencils

The following is a true conversation with the boy-child, in the car yesterday:

 

Boy-child: I need a pencil. Do you have one?

 

Me: No. Don’t you have one in your backpack?

 

Boy-child: No.

 

Me: Where is your pencil box?

 

Boy-child: I dunno . . .

 

Me: What do you take to class with you, so you’ll have something to write with?

 

Boy-child: A friend with pencils.

 

I have to hand it to him. He has it all figured out. And it illustrates a pretty good life lesson, too. It pays to have friends with benefits.

 

What? No, I don’t mean those kinds of benefits. Shame on you.

 

These days, friends with pencils are a rare commodity. We have hundreds of friends on Facebook, a thousand followers on Instagram, and about a zillion people tweeting at us like some sort of birds. And many of them are good friends, too. But when you need a pencil, you need a real, in-the-flesh kind of friend. Nobody’s gonna Skype you a pencil or Facetime you a pencil. And no bird is gonna drop one out of the sky, no matter how many tweets you get.

 

I know, I’m preaching a sermon that’s been preached a thousand times before. But honestly, my son’s pencil experience really caused me to look at those realtime connections in a new way. Yeah, I bought him some pencils, and today he has plenty in his backpack. And I hope he’s given the chance to loan one of them to a friend who needs one.

 

What do I take with me when I need support? Encouragement? A lot of grace and a sense of humor? Too often, I look to the internet. I go searching for articles about whatever I’m going through, or I post a blurb on social media and hope for virtual “likes” to give me the support I need.

 

But an article can’t look me in the eyes and say “It’s going to be okay.” A little blue thumbs-up sign can’t hug me and say “You’ve got this.” And a cute little bluebird silhouette can’t pour me a cup of coffee or tea and laugh at how much sugar I add.

 

As a writer, I work by myself most of the time. I’m so grateful for social media, because it keeps me sane. It keeps me feeling connected. But I’m guilty of relying too much on the online experience and neglecting the face-to-face experience. Though I don’t watch much television anymore, I’ve been guilty of spending too many hours there, as well.

 

I’m so glad the internet wasn’t invented yet when Jesus walked the earth. Can you imagine if Jesus had preached his sermons on YouTube? He would have never had to feed the 5,000. He’d have just directed them to the Food Network. He’d have never healed the blind man with a touch of his hand — that guy would have been too busy using his text-to-speech app to google WebMD.

 

And can you imagine if the Bible had been written in Twitter posts?

 

Actually, it already has been: “Day 1: Lighting system installed. BRB.

 

Days 2-6: Some assembly required: sky, plants, cows, people. Left humans in charge, LOL. Day 7: Siesta” ~ WWGT (Twitter). Somehow, it’s just not the same. But I digress . . .

 

If Jesus hadn’t spent his life building face-to-face friendships, he would never have impacted lives in the same way. If he’d relied on social media, people would have just unfriended him when they started feeling uncomfortable.

 

This morning, my friend Lori is coming over. We’re going to walk together, for exercise, though we usually end up exercising our jaws more than our legs. Then we’ll share some coffee and talk about our our kids, our jobs, and the fact that we still haven’t finished our Christmas decorating. Lori is a friend with pencils, and I’m so grateful for her.

 

And for many others, who’ve been friends with pencils for me over the years. You know who you are, and I’m so blessed to have you in my life. I hope if you ever need a pencil, you’ll take me to class with you.

 

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!” Ecclesiastes 4:9-10.

 

Find more of Renae’s humor in The Breaking Point: Lessons for Life from a Scatterbrained Wife, available on Amazon.