The Heart and Voice of a Friend

It was the first time I’d heard her voice.

We’d met, through words and pictures on each other’s’ blogs. I first started blogging by posting a weekly gratitude list and linking it with Ann Voskamp’s community. I knew absolutely nothing about the rules of etiquette governing blog world. On Ann’s site I saw thumbnails, small pictures linking to the gratitude posts of others, lists each had made of weekly thank offerings. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to read and comment on others’ lists; if it was nosy or creepy or stalkerish to do so. But I did. I looked through the thumbnails and at the other blog titles and found one called Curious Acorn. I figured whoever chose that title must have been some kind of marketing genius. The curious word choice drew me in. Is the writer curious about acorns? I wondered. Or, is the blog about acorns that are curious? That doesn’t make any sense.

So of course I clicked. And I made my very first internet friend.

I met Jodi, an artist. And, as a left-brained, linear-thinking, spreadsheet-loving gal, I can tell you that very little of the way artists process life makes any sense to me.  And I think I’m only beginning to realize how desperately I need them in my life. I just don’t let them do the math when we’re eating out somewhere and it’s time to calculate the tip.

Despite our differences, I found a kindred spirit in this artist girl I’d never met. We love the same movies, we laugh at the same things. She is the Diana Barry to my Anne Shirley in the same way my friend Ethel from real life is the madcap counterpart to my zany Lucy.

How is it I’m always the redhead?

Anyway. Jodi and I have walked through similar pain in our lives. We’ve prayed for one another and for the other’s family. We love the same Jesus. So when I realized I would be in her neighborhood for The Relevant Conference, I dared to ask if I could come and meet her.

Come hungry, she said.

An early October snowstorm moved in during the course of the conference, disrupting and delaying travel plans for many. I called Jodi to update her on my plans and let her know when to expect me. And I heard her voice for the first time.

I found my way to the home of the Curious Acorn; I met Jodi and her family. She told me the stories behind the pictures on her refrigerator. She introduced me to her grandbabies. She spoke in a calm, quiet, deep, soothing voice; one like an NPR voice but without all the smugness.

I saw the famous chalkboard pantry door from pictures on Jodi’s blog. She wasn’t kidding when she’d told me to come hungry. She fed me well; she nourished my soul.

On a sideboard next to the table she’d written words she’d asked the Father to give her, words just for me:

If it’s possible for a house to breathe peace, Jodi’s does.

Most parents, I imagine, are as concerned as I am about the amount of time their children spend on the internet, and rightfully so. We warn our children about its dangers; we tell them not to reveal personal things to strangers. We encourage them to get outdoors, to embrace life in the beauty of God’s good creation. I believe God made us embodied spirits and placed us in particular places in space and time. We have been created for community and intended to reflect God to our neighbors. We are to inhabit the places we live.

I can’t quite make sense of what is happening in my life, in and through the strange reality of blog world, but something is. One of the speakers at Relevant asked, At what time in history can we go and make disciples around the world while in our pajamas and in our living rooms? I seldom know what is going on in the lives of people on the other side of this screen, those who are reading the words I’ve tapped out. I tell my stories, I get to know people; God is doing something. That’s all I know.

As I was loading up my car to leave, Jodi packaged up some of her fancy homemade gingerbread for me for the drive home. Who does something like that?

A kindred spirit. A real friend. A sister.

(The state of Connecticut is, once again, experiencing widespread power and internet outages. Linking late with Laura and L.L.

And with Jen and the sisterhood: