I met Lucy ten years ago. I remember it like yesterday when she walked into a nightclub-turned-church in Manchester, England with her strawberry blonde locks and Dodger blue sweatshirt. I had just moved to England a few weeks before and was hating it. Her soft voice coupled with her sweet demeanor was a welcomed gift to my frazzled first few weeks in England. She had this way about her, a carefree, beautiful, meek presence, and truly one of the kindest people I had ever met. Her kindness was refined as she grew up with a mother who had fostered over 60 kids. Her love was strong as you could tell she had tasted deep pain and knew love was the only way to heal. She had lost her dad at 14. She was at violin camp when she got a phone call from her mother that her father had passed.
There was just something about her.
Lucy and I were placed on a ministry team together and moved to London. In between work we would visit museums, cafes, Covent Garden, Hyde Park, and sneak away to the north of France to cook duck a l’orange in a cozy cottage. We would spend hours talking at our favorite pizza place or sit at a roadside pub listening to Corinne Bailey Rae. We laughed, cried, and had this feeling that we were always supposed to meet, that we were always supposed to love each other. Proverbs 29:9 says, “a sweet friendship refreshes the soul.” I am convinced we are refreshed with a kindred spirit because we learn how to serve them in their most broken and anxious moments. They serve us in our most broken and anxious moments.
In one of my most broken moments, visiting the orphanage in Delhi where I was left, Lucy was there. She held my hand when I wanted to lay in the fetal position and cry, acknowledging my loss. When I told her I couldn’t handle it, she told me, “we can do this, Jesus is here.” After leaving the orphanage we went back to our hostel, laid faced down on our pillows and cried until we fell asleep. She was the hands, feet, and mouthpiece of Jesus for me in that sore moment.
We’ve shared the painful moments and the sparkly ones too. We held each other’s dresses on our wedding days and threatened death to the other’s husband if he didn’t love her the way she deserved.
She was and forever will be my closest friend. Today we each have two children, sleepless nights, stretch marks, and mortgages. A far cry from our wild adventures gallivanting across London. Most of our time together looks like this…
Friendship, a sweet friendship, is a rare rose. Cultivate it, sow into it. Believe the world for the other.
Dear Lucy, this has been a sweet ten years walking alongside you, even though an ocean makes it way between us, my heart and mind are never far from you. I look forward to the next ten years together. May we never take for granted the adventure we are living both independently and together, our stories so beautifully interwoven in the tapestry of the kingdom.
