Hank’s Surprise Party

My buddy, Hank, turned 60 last week (oops! if he wanted that to keep that on the down-low). His wife threw him a surprise party that Kim and I were excited to join.

As the guests arrived, we all crowded onto the landing that overlooked the living room and waited for the birthday boy. We watched silently when he entered through the front door, looking down over him and his wife, Shelly. At just the right time, we got the signal and all yelled “Surprise!”.

Hank jumped when he heard the loud voices and looked around for the source before realizing that we were all standing directly over him. He stared straight up at us for a moment, then said “Wow! There are some things you can’t un-see.”

My best friends always know exactly what to say.

You learn about folks while you are crowded together in a small space, and I got to meet some of his friends. Most of them have known each other for decades. The woman in this picture (2nd from left) met him in the 3rd grade and her husband (far left) met him in the 7th grade. The best man at his wedding thirty-two years ago was there, still standing proudly by his side.

I watched as Hank moved from person to person in the crowded room. Each conversation followed the effortless flow of people who have known each other for as long as they can remember. Among old friends, nobody worries about doing or saying the right thing. They were all individuals but had learned to fit together like your favorite jeans and t-shirt.

The party was a lot of fun. Shelly did a perfect job putting it together, and everyone had a good time.

Hank boasts connections that are more than 50 years old. Comparing that to my last party, I didn’t know any of my friends 10 years ago. I chose frequent relocations over relationships with my neighbors. Hank has done an incredible job nurturing his friendships across decades and I have not. I love my “new” friends but also want what he has.

It is hard to admit, but I was jealous of Hank’s friendships.

I hoped to have matured beyond jealousy like growing out of pimples. Instead, it turns out they both turn up at bad times and are really hard to conceal. On three separate occasions this past weekend, jealousy crept into my thoughts. This was only the first invasion.

These minor jealousies start innocently enough by admiring someone’s achievements, then become twisted desires to possess those things, and finally turn into dissatisfaction with what God has given to me.

The second jealousy attack came the next day during baptisms at church. An incredible 126 people dedicated their lives to Jesus and an equal number performed their baptisms. I admire the chosen “baptizers”. My friend Brent shared his faith freely and was invited to be part of something very special. I am happy for him.

But I was only a spectator. I wondered, “Why isn’t that me up there?”

In my mind, there were several, good reasons why someone should ask me to fulfill that role. Unfortunately, there was only one reason for my question. Envy.

The third time jealousy breached my defenses came after the service. While Kim held babies in the nursery, I found a quiet picnic table in the shade to work on my next blog post. I wanted to write a compelling article demonstrating that God is real and encourage people to feel his love. I wanted to speak to the hearts of people who don’t believe in him. I wanted to capture the passion of a great evangelist.

After a few paragraphs, I read over the uninspired nonsense and hit the delete button. I’ve tried so many times with the same result.

My jealousy isn’t restricted to people I know. I am envious of authors and speakers I’ve never met.

I thought, “Why can’t I do this?”

God’s answer to my questions wasn’t what I anticipated. Instead of telling me why not, he told me what next. With that, I saw how my requests would be a distraction. I’m not strong enough to stay focused.

God told me that I am his child of encouragement. His plan is for me to share both my victories and struggles with the world so that others will know they are not alone. He speaks to people through me in a way that I never could by myself. I pour over every word in these posts, seeking his spirit. It is my joy.

In my weakness, I complain about what I want. In his perfect love, he gives me a purpose. I have everything I could hope for.

I just need a reminder sometimes.

Hank’s friends demonstrated how much they care about him. They have found happiness together for a long time because they appreciate each other. I’m glad he’s got great friends. He deserves them.

It was a wonderful surprise party.

Happy birthday, Hank. I hope we’ll be friends for years to come.