Bob

I was Bob's client long before I was Bob's friend. And he intimidated me from the very moment I met him. 

Bob is one of those guys who is extremely knowledgeable - not just in book learning, but in life experience. He has an extremely good intuition and an insight that has developed over decades of putting his passion into practice. When you talk to Bob, you feel the gap between everything you thought you knew and the gift that a lifetime of experience has to offer. 

Not on purpose. I mean, not because Bob is in any way arrogant about it. In fact, he is a great teacher. It's just that...well, maybe it's my own insecurities that get in the way. (I know that it is.) 

After many years of being his client, Bob and I had the opportunity to become friends, by virtue of worshiping together in the same church. That automatically made us brother and sister, and Bob took that seriously. There's not a member of the church who is not Bob's sibling. But...I don't think I spoke to him for the first several years. 

Bob and I actually share many of our passions. We both love God. We both love humans. And we both love dogs. And Bob has always been willing to share generously on all of these topics. 

For me, I always worry about others thinking I am taking advantage of them. I worry about developing one-emphasis relationships. I worry about feeling like a leach or coming across as needy. I worry about...well, I worry about a lot of things. 

But when I really needed Bob, when my dog was struggling beyond my capacity to provide for her, Bob was right there. He offered freely from his wisdom and helped me navigate some really tricky terrain - first with an epileptic dog, then later when she developed diabetes. When I had ankle surgery and couldn't take my best friend for a walk for a few months, Bob came up and walked her for me a few times. He even took her out for ice cream. 

When her seizure medicine was backordered and I couldn't seem to get my hands on any, Bob used his credentials to get us what we needed.

You would think, then, that in her final months (which I didn't know were her final months), when we were really struggling all over again, Bob would have been my first call...but he wasn't. The truth is that even in all these years of worshiping together, learning together, loving together, serving together, I have never gotten over my initial intimidation. That's on me, not him. 

Because when we were really struggling again, Bob called me. He provided his wisdom again. He offered to help again. He reminded me to call him whenever I needed again. 

I don't think he knows the things I wrestle with in my heart when I talk to him. Again, those are my issues, not his. But he continues to be so generous with his wisdom and his love. That's who he is. 

I find myself in a similar position. I have a number of persons in my life in this season, as I have in many seasons past, who are intimidated by me for one reason or another. Because of my knowledge. Because of my experience. Because of my faith (I hope). Because of whatever. I have a number of persons who I know feel that gap when they talk with me, and because of the way that I feel when I talk with Bob, I am keenly aware of it. 

The challenge that I give myself, then, is to live like Bob. To live so graciously and generously with what I have to offer that it's clear that the hindrances are not from my side. At the same time, to be so gracious and generous that when I know there's a hindrance there, I'm the one to pick up the phone. 

It bothers me to think that anyone might be intimidated by me. I hate that. It's not something I do intentionally, and I do everything I can to not be intimidated, but to be gracious and welcoming and loving and encouraging and all of the things that Bob has been to me over the years. And yet, I know so well that it just still happens. 

One of the regrets that I have in my life is that I don't think I took advantage of the opportunities that God had for me in the seasons in which Bob was a more prominent factor in my life and my faith. But I'm thankful that even in missing that chance, I am still learning a lesson. A lesson that will hopefully make me more, ironically, like Bob. And a better friend to those around me. 

Thanks, Bob. Honestly.