The unusual faces of friendship...

Never in my life did I think I would have friends like Michael and Kay. They are special people, but strange characters for sure. They were friends of Z and mine from Church Under the Bridge, and over the years that we knew them both, some pretty funny things happened. I wanted to take this opportunity to give them a "shout out," not that they use the computer at all. I just want them to know that they have each impacted me in profound and funny ways.

I can't even remember how we first met Michael. I honestly think he was Z's friend first. Every few years, Michael, with his fun personality and influence with the ladies, would pick a few young Baylor coeds and stick to them like glue. How honored I (we) am that we were chosen from 1999-2002. :) The three of us became quick friends and Michael's telling and re-telling of stories soon became a regular part of our week. I don't know what exactly happened to Michael in his younger years, but I do know that he is mentally ill. I suppose he's the type of guy that at first glance most folks would try to avoid as he would either appear "crazy" or dangerous. What's funny is that honestly, he's neither. All that unkempt white hair, those missing teeth, and the same dirty Baylor tshirts probably don't convey the message he would like, but after all, he had limited resources. I remember sometimes being shocked at the miles that he would walk to faithfully attend church each Sunday and how he would forego meals in an effort to keep batteries in the small radio from which he listened to each and every Baylor football game. His love of the attention and friendship of Baylor ladies was only surpassed by his commitment to Baylor athletics and Dr. Pepper. (He should get some sort of loyal fan award - that's for sure!). Sometimes Michael annoyed us (me), and I wished he would leave us alone. I remember being particularly offended one Sunday when Z was out of town and a friend of mine was visiting. Because I had a guest, we made plans to spend time together on Sunday afternoon. So, after church I told Michael we had to hurry and eat at Wendy's across the street from church. He didn't really like this idea, since typically we went to nicer restaurants and spent time talking, bonding, and making the average "after-church" crowd very uncomfortable. As we walked over to Wendy's and got in line and I re-explained to Michael what was going on, he proceeded to call me a "cheap skate." I was insulted. How dare he call me a cheap skate? I (we) buy his lunch every week after church and take him to sporting events, feed his Dr. Pepper addiction and keep in a constant supply of AA batteries. Why couldn't he be appreciative and content? After all, we sat with him every Sunday in church, took him to lunch every Sunday after church and then would hang out with him at our apartment or various other places throughout the week. Didn't he know how much we were sacrificing for him?

At that moment I self-righteously wanted to leave him on his own and force him to see what life would be like without us. In my immaturity, I was sure it be too painful for him to handle and he would come back to us and apologize. HAHA...that never happened. Not even close. What did happen though is that one night we got a phone call. As we answered the phone, a hysterical Michael was on the other end begging for help. Perfect, I thought. He's realized his mistakes and needs us. You can imagine my surprise when he tells us that he's been kicked out of the house where he usually crashes and though he needs a place to stay, he's calling to see if we can help Maria**. Maria and her children were being beaten by her on-again off-again boyfriend and Michael, with all the courage his aging and broken body could muster, stood up to Gustavo** and told him not to mess with Maria and the kids. Gustavo then proceeded to yell at and threaten Michael and kicked him out. So, late at night, Michael is calling us, from a pay phone, not to take care of his immediate need but to help those whom he cared deeply about. As 21 year old college students, there wasn't a whole lot that we could do, but we did what we could. We picked up Michael, gave him a place to crash for the night and told someone about the incident. We also went by Maria's place later to see if there was anything we could do or bring for her and the kids.

In all of this, I saw an unusual face to friendship. I learned that sometimes friendship is about loving and caring for people so they can do that for others, not so that they will return it to you. For Maria and her kids, Michael was someone who "mooched" off of them, but more importantly, he was also someone they could count on when no one else would intervene. He would stand up for them, bring attention to their difficult situation, and always remind them that better days were ahead. This reminds of the "pay-it-forward" concept. Sometimes God calls on us to love not because we desperately need it back, but because HE first loved us. If in some ways we all had that attitude, imagine how many "Michaels" there would be out there loving the lost, the least, the left out, and the unknown? Could be pretty amazing, huh?

Kay was another interesing friend that we made during our college years. In all honesty, Kay was really messed up physically. She had a list of ailments longer than my arm and a bag of meds bigger than my suitcase. AND, she had an attitude to match. She didn't ever take crap from anyone and would let us know exactly what she thought. Through her rough and tactless exterior, there was a soft heart inside of Kay that would lead her to break down and cry when she was discourged or overwhelmed. We would talk to Kay, encourage her, get her clothes and other supplies and just tried to befriend her as best we could.

During this time, I got a new(er) car! I was SO excited. After driving a really old car for years that broke down at some really inopportune moments (later, later), to say I was excited when I got my 2 year old Honda Civic seems like a gross understatement. Z and I would joke that riding in my passenger seat would be a great quad work-out for her, since I wouldn't allow her to put her feet on the floor mat in an effort to keep it perfectly clean, just as it was when we pulled out of the dealership. (Love ya, big dawg!) One particular Sunday after church, Kay approached us for a ride home. About this same time, a young guy who we suspected was strung out on drugs also asked for a lift. Being the people that we are, we said yes to both and all headed for my new(er) Honda. As we were loading into the car, I started to get a knot in my stomach knowing that this wasn't going to be good for "preserving" my car in its new state. I tried to continually remind myself that as God had provided this car for me, I was to use it to bless others. I started to feel a little better about it until Kay stated that she had been to the doctor the day before and had a catheter hooked up which flowed into a plastic bag that she was carrying underneath her coat. Z and I exchanged glances, rolled our eyes, and we all piled into the car and hit the road. As I begin asking the young man where we needed to take him, I hit a speed bump going a bit too fast and Kay screamed out. Her screaming scared me so I hit another bump going too fast to which Kay pulled out the plastic bag full of urine and told me that if I didn't slow it down, the bag would explode ALL over my car. OH NO...NOT KAY'S FECES! I couldn't handle it. If I wouldn't even let Z put the bottom of her feet in my car, how much less would I handle the explosion of Kay's medically-necessary "portable toilet?" To top off the uncomfortable and stressful situation, the guy in the backseat (sitting next to Z - haha) starts demanding that we call him "god." He refuses to be called anything else and will not give me instructions on where to take him unless I address him as "god." At this point, Z is poking me in the back demaning in spanish that we hurry and drop this "crazy" off. I'm thinking, "which one?" The one who's high and thinks he's the savior? Or the bossy one who at one wrong turn or large bump is going to involuntarily have us swimming in a sea of her waste? I am happy to report that we were able to drop "god" off at the right spot and that he exited the car without trouble, and though the explosion of Kay's excrement was still a looming threat, we could all relax a little. Finally (and after taking the long way), we dropped Kay off at her house with EVERTHING in tact. When she got out of the car, I felt such a specific sense of relief. We had completed our mission and my car remained in good condition.

What I didn't expect though, is that a few months later as Z and I were packing our college apartment preparing for graduation, is that we would hear from Kay. Kay was insistent that we see her before we left. When we made it over to her place, she proudly presented us each with a Christmas gift. As we unwrapped our presents, Kay reflected on the help we had been to her and how much it meant, and then this poverty-stricken, ailing, seemingly unlovable woman gave us the most generous gifts she was able. One was a huge painting of an angel and the other was some sort of lion drawing. Both were incredibly frightening and nothing that either Z or I desired to look at again, much less take home with us. I feel bad saying that, but it was the truth. The gifts themselves were nothing special, in fact nothing normal, but the heart of friendship that presented them to us was one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. Though neither Z or I have those gifts anymore due to the vagabond-ish existences we lived for years after college, I am sure they are things we will never forget. It struck me recently that sometimes friendship isn't something that materializes right away, no matter how much you put into it. It comes in time, as God sees fit, and is not always expressed by both parties the same way. It was Kay, you see, that God used to show me another unusual face of friendship.