Old Friends and My 17-Year-Old Self
I’ve been in one of those moods. You know the kind of mood where I’m all in my feelings, remembering, thinking, reflecting, asking all the questions.
Recently I saw a handful of people from way back when and it stirred up all kinds of things.
Like sadness because life can sometimes change so quickly that it takes your breath away. One minute you’re living your best 17-year-old life. You have plans and people and places. But in the blink of an eye, your best 17-year-old life seems to vanish into thin air. It morphs into something you couldn’t have imagined and, in some ways, didn’t choose even if just for a season. And the plans, the places, and people vanish right along with it. Sometimes they come back around, and sometimes not. And, I’m not being dramatic.
Like gratitude because some people feel like coming home. Do you know what I mean? It’s like your soul breathes a deep sigh of relief at the sight of them, because once-upon-a-time they were your people. And while 17-year-old Valerie didn’t have language for it, these people were safe, steady, and oh-so-significant to me. To have known them for any time at all is a gift. And, if you’re lucky, you’ll get to know them again.
Like grief because when you stand across from people who somehow still feel like home after decades of distance, you feel the sense of loss all over again and a tiny hint of wishful thinking that you could pick right back up where you left off. Because how can it possibly be that thirty years passed.
Like regret because I didn’t understand how to invite my friends into hard, messy things, so I let them go instead. I’m not sure many 17-year-olds really understand how to do that, at least not 17-year-olds like me. Now I know better.
Like curiosity because you want to know all the things. ALL of them. But to bombard my friends with all the questions would have been a tiny bit obnoxious. And I’m sure I was ridiculous, but I don’t even care.
Like joy because when you’re looking for it, you can find it in the most unlikely places. These people represent something good and right. They’re part of moments I look back on with fondness that make my heart smile even today. My best 17-year-old life was turned upside down by trauma and tragedy. But here we are, all these years later, because Jesus. And, my best life is this one. Also, because Jesus.
Like hope because God is strong and kind. He will never be one without the other. He is patient, full of unfailing love, and always present. He’s perfectly faithful, and friends, He’s paying attention. This weekend, He knew just what my heart needed.
That’s who He is —the God who sees. And, this is what He does — the God who cares.
In the meantime, if you have people in your life who feel like home let them know. Today. Tell them that they matter. Make it weird. Otherwise you might find yourself standing on the other side of thirty years, wishing your 17-year-old self had known better.
Love your people. Love them well. Love them on purpose. And, love them out loud. Yeah, what if we did that?