What Mud Puddles Can Teach Us About True Friends

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What Mud Puddles Can Teach Us About True Friends
ALICIA BRUXVOORT

“A true friend loves /regardless of the situation, and a real brother exists to share the tough times.”

Proverbs 17:17 (VOICE)

I sat /in my mini-van /in her driveway and agonized /over what I would say /if she answered the door.

I hadn't planned to stop /as I passed her house /on my way to the grocery store, but [something () my friend said /the day before] kept running /through my head /like a doleful echo.

We’d been sitting /on the edge of the sandbox /at the park, our young ones /building castles at our feet, when she’d mentioned a personal struggle //that threatened to steal her hope.

She masqueraded her vulnerability /with a flimsy giggle, but the tears /pooling in her eyes bore silent testimony /to her pain.

I hadn’t known what to say, so I’d pressed right through the moment /with a one-armed hug and an empathetic nod,

and we quickly shifted our conversation /to something more comfortable — books () we’d read and upcoming church events, potty training woes and soccer schedules.

*masquerade; be disguised or passed off as something else.

But then a verse showed up /in my daily devotion /before I raced out the door. And a clamp of conviction squeezed my heart in a quiet knowing.

“A true friend loves regardless of the situation, and a real brother exists to share the tough times” (Proverbs 17:17).

So there I sat /in her driveway, idling in uncertainty and wishing () I knew what to do.

What if I knocked /on the door and messed it all up? After all, I wasn’t a psychologist or a pastor, a doctor or a counselor.

I was just a sleep-deprived mom /with struggles of her own.

I was about to shift my van /into reverse and ignore the nudge in my soul, when I remembered a simple conversation ()  I'd had with my 8-year-old daughter.

Hannah had come /home /from second grade /with a bloodstain /on her sleeve and a splotch of dried-up mud /on her backside.

*splotch; 1. a large, irregular spot; blot; stain; blotch.

The story spilled /from her lips /between bites of apple slices and Goldfish crackers:

“Grace got hurt /at recess /today. She scraped her knee /on the cement /when she tripped /on the kickball and fell /in a puddle.”

I’d swallowed a giggle, as I tried to picture the clumsy scene.

“So you took her to the nurse?” I’d asked /as I attempted to fill in the gaps.

“No,” Hannah replied /with a humble shrug. “Grace’s leg hurt /too bad to walk.

But the fastest boy in second grade said () he’d run and get the teacher for help.

So I just sat /with her /until the teacher came.”

“In the mud puddle?” I’d retorted /with an incredulous laugh.

“Yeah …” Hannah had replied with a quiet sigh. “I think () she just needed a friend to be with her /while she waited.”

I’d wrapped my daughter /in a proud hug and vowed to remember what my puddle-percher already knew.

When we have nothing to give, we can give ourselves.
When we can't fix the problem, we can offer our presence.
When we can't heal a hurt, we can hold a hand.
When we can't find the words, we can render our with-ness.

I stared /once more /at my friend’s front door and then dropped my head in prayer. Lord, show me what to do.

When I opened my eyes, I noticed a dried splotch of chocolate milk /splattered across the knee of my well-worn jeans.

The splatter was a battle scar /from our hurried breakfast chaos, but in that moment on the driveway, the unsightly blotch of chocolate bore an uncanny resemblance /to a murky brown mud puddle.

So, I took a cue /from a second grader //who understands friendship /a little better than her mama, slipped out of the van and walked /up the front sidewalk. I rang the doorbell and waited with nothing to offer but my stain-splattered self and my humble gift of with-ness.

Because sometimes more than Band-Aids or Bible verses, more than rescue or repair, our struggling friends just need someone //who is willing /to sit with them in the muck.

Dear God, give me courage to offer the gift of my presence to a friend in need. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.