I have some friends who are much better at being good friends than I am. You know the type: They text regularly just to let you know they’re thinking of you; they remember things about what’s going on in your life and ask you how those things are going; they’re the first to call when you need support; they actually know when your birthday is without Facebook alerting them.

I’m working on being a better friend. It doesn’t come naturally to me, but Jesus is helping me. I’m supposed to reflect Him, and He is positively outstanding at being a faithful, thoughtful, loving friend. I know because He has been relentless in His pursuit of me my whole life, even when I really didn’t want much to do with Him.

I first met Jesus as a very young preschooler at a neighborhood VBS. I immediately ran home to tell my parents, who immediately squashed all of my excitement by telling me they didn’t believe in Jesus, and they didn’t believe in people going to heaven. I remember sobbing at our kitchen table, “But I want to go to heaven when I die! I want to be with Jesus!” My parents were dumbfounded–and they pretty much stayed dumbfounded as I continued to grow up in a home that wanted nothing to do with the Jesus that I desired with all my heart.

This was a struggle for me, to say the least. But God did some really amazing things to keep tapping me on the shoulder, to keep reminding me of the commitment I made to Him at 4 years old, to keep calling me home to Himself. In a nutshell, here’s what He did:

Brought me a new best friend when I skipped a grade whose family attended church and took me with them.

Took our family to Africa with the Peace Corps when I was 10, where my sister and I were allowed to attend a missionary boarding school. I was only there for one month, but for the first time in my life I got to see what prayer, Bible study, and daily living for Jesus looked like.

Brought me many friends in junior high and high school who attended youth groups and Young Life.

Placed me in a sorority in college whose nickname was “The God House” because of all the Christian girls who lived there.

I could tell you so much more, but you get the idea. God had my number the day I accepted His call, and He never let me go, even when I really wasn’t that interested in Him. I’m so grateful that even when we give up on Him, He NEVER gives up on us.

Has God been tapping you on the shoulder? Well, consider yourself blessed! And you may as well give in now, because trust me, dude is NOT going to give up!

Happy December 23rd!

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