Special Feature
Out for breakfast, Bay, my oldest daughter, and I discussed which was better… “the waffles or the biscuits.” We are bread people and for some reason, our pallet gravitates toward the bread on the plate. My biscuit was a “canned” biscuit- which is nearly blasphemy to some in our family- but Bay and I agreed that “we liked canned biscuits too.” My wife Hannah rolled her eyes in disapproval. “That bacon looks horrible,” Bay changed the subject slightly. “No, it’s really good. Very crispy and no grease. It’s almost like it was air fried.” My response did little to persuade her. And then we turned to the cheese grits and the rest of the table fair. 
Somewhere during our culinary conversation, a hand reached forth and touched my shoulder. Still looking at the food on Bay’s plate, I was aware that a dark headed figure now lurked at the open seat of our table of three and I abruptly turned, somewhat caught off guard, to see who had taken up the fourth spot at our four top table. My eyes met his, and though his facial hair worked as an aged disguise, it only took a second to recognize my old friend. “David?” Any casual observer could have heard the curious excitement in my voice. And then as if to introduce him to the rest of the table I said, “David Bain!” Hannah then recognized him too, and we jumped headlong into reminiscent conversations of old and new. David and I grew up together. From the third grade at Christ the King we were pals and schoolmates until our paths diverged at high school. Our friendship renewed as we ended up finding ourselves at college together at the University of Montevallo. And since we had hardly seen each other since graduation 20 years ago, there was much to catch up on. Stories flowed through the afternoon of skipping school and girl crushes. It was a fantastic walk down memory lane. We laughed and joked as if not one day had passed since we last met. Hours later, I turned to my old friend and told him farewell. The day has passed us too, and sleep was beckoning. He laughed and we made some joking remarks about ageism. He hugged me and told me “I love you, old friend.” I returned the sentiment, because I do. And I am thankful that we’ve shared so much through the years- so much so that not even a lapse of years could take away from the strength of our bond. He is a true friend. And I am thankful for him and his affections and loyalties.
But he is not my only true friend. In fact, there is another who is a better friend than David. His name is Jesus. There was a time in my life when I had not visited with my friend Jesus for several years. Bitter and angry, blinded by alcohol and fueled by ego, I didn’t have time for my old friend Jesus. His lifestyle conflicted with my own. And like David Bain, Jesus put His hand on my shoulder more times than I can remember, and He too called me by name. Most times though, I simply pulled away. Eventually though, at the depths of my own despair, I looked back upon His face with a smile and beckoned for him. As with only the best, old friends, Jesus was quick to embrace me. And He has never let me go. So, forgive me that I am not writing to you of a tale of adventure. Instead, I offer you a reminder of the greatest love story ever told. How God so loved you, that He gave His only begotten Son, so that because you believed in Him, you would have everlasting life. Jesus is still reaching out to you, to put His hand on your shoulder. No matter how far you think you’ve drifted. No matter how much you think He isn’t invested. He is. He is the best old friend anyone could ever ask for. He will overlook all our failures in the relationship just to tell us He loves us. So, turn your eyes to Him. Look out of the depression and despair and know that your old friend loves you more than you could ever understand. And so do I. God bless.
-Walt Merrell is a Christian Outdoorsman who writes of his adventures with his family, with the hope that others might be inspired and encouraged to embrace God’s tapestry, otherwise known as the great outdoors, as a means of finding Common Ground. You can follow him at Shepherding Outdoors on FB, YT and IG and at shepherdingoutdoors.com.
