Amy

Holly Hobbie is the classic friend. She never tries to force you to do what she wants. She speaks with a quiet voice. She is gentle and loyal. She just makes you feel comforted--the world is okay when you're with her. She reminds you of what's really important in life--friendship. After all, "happiness comes from the heart." She has a way of automatically bringing a smile to your face, and no matter what she happens to be doing, she always takes time for you.

I have a friend just like that. Her name is Amy Harris. Our friendship really began about seven years ago, when I was her son Jacob's third grade teacher. It was a great parent-teacher relationship to begin with--Amy was so supportive of me and conscientious about her role as a parent. But it blossomed into a true friendship, that later became a kinship.

I didn't realize in those early days of friendship just how alike Amy and I are, in so many ways. For those who may not know, Amy has a keen way with words--not only is she tremendously articultate; she has the wit, eloquence, and command of the English language required to turn a phrase in just the right way to make an impression. A very talented writer--we've not collaborated on anything serious yet, but I would like to think it's in our future. I love even receiving text messages from Amy, not just because I care about her but because she communicates in a way that makes me smile, laugh, and appreciate the written word all the more.

Amy is a big fan of "poking fun at the seriousness of life," so for her 40th birthday I wrote her the following poem--we have an inside joke about the fact that I'm about a year older than she is:

The Grinch who Stole Welcoming 40

There was an oldish woman (she was turning 40)

She was feelin’ kinda tired, and not very sporty

What with laundry and car pools, she had little time

Not to mention the dog, at the end of its prime

And add to that meals and piano events

It’s a wonder this woman was left with much sense

She wondered if life could get any more busy

For she feared if it did, she’d be left feeling dizzy

Her husband was kind, but his plate was full too,

And so between the pair, they had too much to do.

So the number loomed above her, like vultures overhead

And she braced herself for “forty” with solemn bouts of dread

As the day grew closer, she vowed, with very Grinch-y cheer

That the day would not come at all; she’d erase the 40^th year

And so, under cover of darkness, she tiptoed to the fridge

She stole the candles, plates, and cake (but she tasted just a smidge)

She stole the birthday napkins; she stole the birthday banner

She even whisked the balloons away in quite a Grinch-y manner

And finally tucked away in bed, the woman of still-39

Developed a bit of a conscience—she knew she’d crossed the line

She put back all the birthday stuff and awoke the next day with a grin

She jumped with joy, determined now, to welcome “40” in

And so, if you’re curious now just what made her dark plan come undone

In a glad revelation, she’d realized…her friend was 41.

But in all seriousness, Amy is one of my greatest confidants. She encourages me in a manner that always points me to the Lord's exceptional care. She has stood by me through some of the most difficult times of my life. Always wishing she could do more. I don't know if she fully realizes just how much her friendship through those times has meant. She need not have done any more--she is the more! Amy doesn't love in a small way--she goes all out. I've never doubted her loyalty nor her love for me.

Amy is sentimental and thoughtful. She even put together a care basket for me once when I was sick, with special little notes of significance attached to the various items. It's the type of thing she's always looking for an opportunity to do. I don't think I've ever known a more intentionally thoughtful person. She is such a blessing.

Aside from our shared love of words, Amy and I have a common passion/drive to be the best moms we can be--and we'd both tell you we have a long way to go. But I've learned so much from Amy. She is one of the most patient, loving mothers I know--she's always seeking the Lord for wisdom and making sure He is at the heart of any correction and training; when I look to be a better mom, she is the example I look to.

If you love music and you want to be amazed by its beauty, just listen to Amy play the piano. She is phenomenal. She brings the keys to life. I've had the joy of hearing her play on many occasions, the blessing of her teaching my son how to play, and the honor of her playing at both my parents' memorial/celebration of life services. She and Rick (he played his guitar) even accompanied me at my mom's service as I sang a song with my daughter (Kristiana) that my mom and I used to sing together. Having Amy involved in such a key way in that very tender moment of my life meant more than words can say.

Amy is unassuming and soft-spoken, but she is a rock. She's someone I can always depend on, and she's willing to rearrange her own schedule to help me at the drop of a hat. She is a pillar of faith and growing godly desires. And she's someone I know I can trust--with my heart, my joys and sorrows--I believe I'd trust her with my life.

So alike, you and I
Lovers of music, words,
and peanut-butter pie.
Our weaknesses we know well,
But we seek the Lord's help,
His victories to tell.
We can't quite aptly unfold
How we became so close,
But it's a blessing to behold.
I thank the Lord each day
For you, my like-hearted friend--
And that you're here to stay.

I love you more than half 'n half, my friend. :) You're a better sidekick than Tonto--and you speak in full sentences. :) Wait, maybe I'm the sidekick.

Never change, Amy. You're some of God's best work, and I love you.