When I was a kid I had no problem making friends. I only had a problem making friends that my parents approved of. The only friends i was allowed to have were those who attended our church. Dad had a problem with all other friends because he had a problem with my friends' parents. Somehow dad always figured I was running with the wrong crowd. I found myself grounded a lot. Not because of what I did, but because of who I hung with.
My friends weren't the hoodlums in town. In fact, I spent a lot of time dodging the hoodlums. I remember going to the skating rink and the hoodlums (Rock Evans, the Ingrams, and guys like that sat in their cars and waited for me to leave the rink and head for home. I'd run as fast as I could, but they'd chase me down with their cars. They'd jump out and surround me. That's when I discovered that my ice skates made a pretty good weapon of self defense. No, my friends weren't like that.
Some of my friends did attend our church. One was the preacher's son, Darrell. Another was the deacon's son, Harlan. And there were others in the church also. There were about eight of us that hung together. These are the ones my dad wanted me to hang with. Ironically, these are also the guys I got into trouble with. No, not serious trouble. We raided gardens, corn fields, apple trees, and stuff like that.
The worst trouble we got into was in the fall of the year after the leaves were off the trees. We stood up on this hill in the woods overlooking the main highway going out of town. There we hurled freshly raided tomatoes at cars as they passed by. One of the guys hit the windshield of a semi, which promptly stopped. We spent a few minutes laughing about it when suddenly we heard someone coming up behind us. Then we all ran, and a voice behind us yelled, "Police, stop or I'll shoot! Police, stop or I'll shoot!" We ran all the harder, down across the highway to our parked cars. And we left there promptly.
Suddenly we noticed that one of the guys was missing. We were just hoping he wasn't caught. After a few minutes we drove back up into the area and Harlan, the guy missing, flagged us down. He got in the car and off we went. He told the story of how he had tripped in the woods, quickly covered himself with leaves, and a few seconds later a police officer walked right by him. Whew! that was close! We behaved ourselves for a few days.
These were the friends my dad thought he could trust. In reality, my friends that he didn't like never got into any trouble. But I still remember how many friends I lost because my dad didn't like them.
But I am now reminded that there is a friend who is closer than a brother. He will never leave us or forsake us. He is always by our side. That friend is Jesus. Do you know Him?
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