Journal Entry for June, 2003

The First Presbyterian young adult group had planned a weekend excursion to the coast,  in a vacation house on Devil's Lake. At Egils, the week before, where Sarah and I had become good friends, she had invited me to join her on a weekend excursion to the coast with the First Presbyterian Young Adult Group.

So on Friday afternoon, armed with a suitcase and bedroll, I found myself standing in the church parking lot. Sarah hadn't arrived. Bolstering my courage, I approached the little group of young people gathered around the church van. I introduced myself to the group leader, who was busy loading cartons of food into the van. She nodded absently.

Knowing that a little busyness can help curb stress and awkwardness in uncertain situations like this, I set down my luggage and offered to help. They allowed me to haul some of the supplies. There were suitcases, club bags, sleeping bags, boxes of food, and the largest cooler I had ever seen. Some of the luggage had to be packed into the shiny black suburban, but most of the food was stowed in the back of the van.

Sarah soon arrived and joined us. It was good to see her again, and though we were eager to chat, shyness kept us at a slight distance. The group leader, Heather, stood back to calculate the project. There wasn't much left to do, and standing in the shade of the van, we rested a moment. Suddenly Heather seemed to notice me for the first time. "So you're a friend of Sarah?" she asked.

"Yep," I replied.

"And you two have only known each other for a week?" she asked, casting me a dubious glance.

 "Yep," I replied confidently, but inside I faltered. It suddenly seemed impulsive to have accepted this offer. Perhaps I should have waited until I knew Sarah a little better.

But Sarah had overheard. "We've known each other a month," she corrected cheerfully. "We just became better acquainted last weekend."

Her broad, carefree smile and cheery words brought me back, and I grinned ruefully. We had met at Ceilidh the first Monday of that month, and though we hadn't realized it then, we were each an answer to the other's prayers.

Later, when comparing notes, we realized how incredible it was that God had designed our paths to cross. It wasn't until Sarah and I camped as neighbors at Egils that we were forced to acknowledge each other. Countless times I had asked God for a friend - someone I could talk to, who shared similar interests. Someone close to my age, who enjoyed life and was a Christian.

I had asked God for this perfect friend, but didn't honestly expect her to really materialize. Not that I doubted the power of prayer, and the Heavenly Father, but it has been my experience that He has plans of His own, and I have become accustomed to accepting the gifts He sends, even though they aren't exactly what I "ordered." I realize He's the one writing the script, and He knows best what I should receive, so I put in my requests, and thank Him for whatever comes.

So when Sarah called me on the phone and asked if she could camp with Juliana and I, I didn't allow my hopes to rise. We had met once before, at Ceilidh, but hadn't spoken much. It occurred to me that this pleasant young lady might be a potential friend, but I'd seen a lot of people come and go in the SCA, and rarely did they attend more than one event, or respond to email if I managed to obtain their information. So I treated her with reserved friendliness, and suppressed the hope that she might actually become more than a passing acquaintance.

There's nothing more annoying than pesky, loud, or unpleasant neighbors at an event. I had promised Juliana peace and quiet around our camp, and felt the responsibility to interview this potential camp-mate.

I tried to be discreet as I proceeded to ask a few questions, size of her tent, camping needs, would she mind being in the quiet area? Did she party? Somewhere along the way, however, the interview was lost and we found ourselves in the middle of conversation. She was eagerly telling me about a book she authored and published, and I told her about my parents' book ministry. She was 23, my age within a month. She had graduated from college, and was planning to attend seminary in the fall.

After hanging up the phone, I mentioned the girl to my mother, who was busy washing dishes. She immediately asked, "Maybe she's that friend you've been praying for!"

"Maybe," I replied, but I wasn't ready to believe it. Things like that just don't happen. At least, not for me.

At Egils, however, we hit it off surprisingly well. It was good to have someone my own age to cruise the event. We spent the day talking, and shopping the booths. We walked all around the park, and were surprised at how much we had in common.

We went down to the river and admired the view. There were children playing in the grass, and they stared, wide-eyed as we picked our way through the tangle of blackberry bushes and tall grasses. It was challenging in long skirts, and we laughed as we tried to keep from picking up brush and stickers bushes in our hems.

Finally the path took us back to the main road. I was talking about my family, and mentioned that they were rather conservative and believed in high moral integrity, and old fashioned ideals.

"So you're a Christian?" Sarah ventured.

"Yes!" I replied, firmly.

And that sealed it.

Now, only one week later, we were going to test our friendship outside the SCA. I wasn't sure why she'd invited me to spend the weekend with her on this retreat, but had leapt at the opportunity. After all, we had a lot more to chat about, and here we were, in the church parking lot, preparing to embark on a new adventure.

Heather lifted her eyebrows, but I didn't feel intimidated anymore. She gave up and turned her back on us to give directions to her husband about something. Sarah and I grinned. Miracles do happen, and He does listen to our prayers. Even little ones.

Brooke Revere
(Lady Adele Fontane in the SCA)

Click here to see more pictures from Egils

Pictures from Young Adult Retreat at Devils Lake, Lincoln City, Oregon: