A Merri Post

It's not often that you can name the exact time you met someone. Exactly one year ago, I met someone for the first time. Despite all the connections we have, at least as far as I remember, I had never met her before.

I remember where it was almost exactly, too. The day was April 22, 2012; it was the first day in our new church building, just a bit after 10 o'clock following Mr. Varner's Sunday school class. I believe it was the day Deanna and I had waited in the back while Ryan got more chairs and then sat beside him and Grace, though I could be mistaken. The chairs were arranged in two long rows lengthwise in the room. It didn't work well and they subsequently changed it to several width-wise rows.

About three or four rows from the front sat two girls I didn't know. Being that it was the first day in our new building, I'm not sure if I thought too much about them or not, until one of them spoke. I couldn't see her face, but she was wearing what I later realized must have been her cowboy boots, a knee-length skirt, an interesting shirt-I think the green/yellow polka-dot one that she later gave the girl who was sitting next to her, obviously her sister, because Jonny doesn't like it-and some unusual tights, and I could see her neat, involved-looking hairdo. I have since come to love this as her style.

Young women don't often speak in adult Sunday school, and new people rarely do. I forget what her little speech was about, but it was something regarding what Mr. Varner was talking about, and I think a slightly different take on whatever had been said. Ah, I thought, she's one of those homeschooled girls who thinks she knows everything-and probably does.

I was right...but boy, was I wrong. Sure, she was a smart homeschooler, but she was certainly not the stereotyped know-it-all I had judged her to be. Rather, she has a humble wisdom given her by the Father.

Afterwards, we had to go to the front to get papers for our Bible survey, and as Aleaha, Grace, and Ashley, I believe, were introducing themselves to the two new girls, I decided to go along. I put one knee on the seat of a chair in the row in front of them. Grace introduced me and Deanna, I think.

I forget exactly what was said. I have this feeling that Anna introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Anna!" in her bubbly way, but that's probably just because I've seen her do it. "This is Merri, and this is her sister Anna," they probably said.

I shook hands with both of them and listened as Grace talked to them, asking about how they had come to the church. We probably talked about her name; it's Merri-not Mary-because she was born smiling (and hasn't stopped yet).

I thought, that was good, I've met some new people, and now I shall move on. There are probably a lot of new people curious about the new church building, and who knows how many will actually keep coming. I'll probably not talk to them much again.

Boy, was I wrong, and am I glad...

After that, there are two incidents with Merri that I remember before I really knew her. First, I went to a college group thing at the Baylys'. I think it may have been that very afternoon. I sat in a chair at the farther side of the oval-shaped circle. Some girls came in. Elizabeth, I believe, sat at the other side of the gap, and Abbi pulled up two chairs between us. I hoped Abbi would sit next to me, but the other girl did instead.

It doesn't make sense that I wouldn't recognize her as Merri...I must have, but still didn't really know who she was. Perhaps I thought of her more as Abbi's friend than as the girl I had met.

Afterwards, she asked me what I was doing. I told her what I had done with school, and how I was considering going to college. I told her how I had not applied myself in school, and that I didn't care that much about getting a degree, but wanted to be a more well-rounded, educated person and thought the challenge would be good for me. She encouraged me, saying she had gone to Bible college for a year and the different study methods had been helpful, especially with Scripture. Later I think we went outside and played with the kids.

Interestingly, my vision of her in this incident is slightly different-I don't quite picture her as herself. In any case, I ended up happy she had sat next to me, and I started to appreciate her then.

The next incident was about a month after, so I must have talked to her in the meantime, but I don't remember doing so. I forget what exactly it was; the college group had some sort of activity with a bonfire on the church property afterwards. Eric and I went over after Friday Night Bible Study. I talked to different people, and ended up talking with Merri.

I forget what the lesson at Friday Night had been about, but it had been challenging, and I had been convicted. Merri asked me how the lesson was, and I was glad when she didn't let me stop at "good." She asked how it applied to me; though I had difficulty enunciating it, she was patient with me. Being convicted, yet unsure how to apply what I learned, was something I struggled with.

I ended up telling her how I had been struggling with overcoming sin, how I would be convicted, yet frustrated because I would always fall back again, which I hadn't talked to anyone about. She got a funny smile on her face and asked if she could pray for me. "It makes me happy when I see someone truly seeking after God, and I can see your love for Him and your desire to be like Him." She praised God for that and prayed for me in a long, Scriptural prayer there beside the fire, and it touched me. Literally the day before, I had longed to talk to someone and had asked God for a mentor. (Isn't He amazing?) I loved how I could have a natural, deep spiritual discussion with someone I had hardly known. I loved this girl already.

She needed something to eat, so I walked with her over to some sort of wooden thing piled with things. From amongst all the sugary snacks and stuff for s'mores, she extracted some sort of tuna or chicken stuff. She told me then that she couldn't eat sugar and had to watch what she ate. I had no idea then how extensive that was, though.

We walked out to the parking lot-I forget why. It may have been while Eric and I were leaving, and Merri came with us. She was a bit timid to cross the bridge. "Don't worry," Eric said, naming two big guys who had jumped on it to make sure it was safe. "If it held them, you'll be fine."

She seemed to accept this.

Then I said, "Or, that so weakened the bridge that it is now cracked and will collapse when you start to cross it."

In the dark, I could see her cock her head at me and open her mouth in a shocked way. "Jeannette!" she cried. "That was so mean! I can't believe you would do that to me!"

I was surprised. I hadn't even thought of it being unusual. Then I chuckled inwardly-outwardly too. So far, our conversations, though definitely cheerful, had generally been serious. Just you wait, Merri, I thought. You don't know me yet. If you stick around me, you'd better get used to it! I purposefully tried to be sarcastic a few times that night after that.

That was the night of the incident of Eric losing his phone. Jonny called it and Eric found it. Before we left, Eric jumped the fire. We were leaving, I said goodbye to Merri, and then Eric couldn't find his phone. We came back, and when Jonny called it this time, it went straight to voice mail. This second time of looking may have included the bridge incident. After they stopped looking, Merri and I talked as they finally figured out that he had, indeed, lost his phone in the fire.

That night was a good introduction to our family.

I don't remember specifically anything of establishing a friendship after that. I think it was because after that, it seemed like we had known Merri forever. I loved her immediately. This was illustrated once when, after we had been friends for a number of months, I suddenly realized I spoke funny around Merri.

When I told her that, she said, "You don't talk funny!" She was resting on a little rocking chair in front of the trampoline at our house with my warm fuzzy blanket around her.

"Yes, I do!" I said. "I talk funny when I'm around you." I had done it again. So, I thought hard and forced myself to speak normally, and when I did, she thought that I was talking strangely.

"No," I said, with every word consciously forcing myself to use my normal voice. "This is my normal voice." Even though it took effort to use it.

Merri and Anna have a happy, excited way of speaking, which is totally normal for them, but I realized I was mimicking it when I was around them. "The way you talk is good for you, but it's not normal on me. This is actually my real voice."

Merri didn't seem to know what to think. "I just thought that was your normal voice!" she exclaimed.

Deanna thought it was quite odd. "Merri seems to have a weird affect on Jeannette," she said.

"It's kind of weird," Merri said, hugging me, "but I like it!"

As for me, I was shocked that I had so often done it that Merri didn't even know what my real voice sounded like! I wasn't quite surprised when I realized I did it-I had a vague idea that I sometimes did-but she truly thought that was my real voice! She told me afterwards that she had thought I had some weird sort of accent.

However, later when I told some people about it, I could not speak for them as I had before. When Merri was around, I could almost do it. But speaking that way had been so unconscious that I didn't realize I had been doing it and I couldn't do it purposefully. After that, I sort of stopped doing it-again, not purposefully-as if once it was identified, I couldn't continue.

Mimicking Merri isn't a bad thing, though her voice isn't the most profitable thing to attempt. I had quickly come to appreciate her more and more, learning more deeply the things that I had noticed at first: her love and concern for people; her wisdom; her sincere, deep consideration of people and spiritual things; her evident delight in the Father; the joy she takes in speaking of Him; and her unashamed, frequent prayers. Seeing her eyes light up and a smile spread over her face whenever she talks of Him, it is evident that He is her Father in a special way, and makes me long for a deeper relationship with Him like that.

What I say here are the type of things people tend to leave to funerals, when the person doesn't know how much they were appreciated. That is something Merri has encouraged me in by her example: to be grateful, and to freely express your gratefulness.To realize that all things are blessings from the Lord.

Her frequent rejoicing that the Lord has worked in my life-yes, that's written correctly-has helped me to realize that I should not take for granted that He is working, either in my life or in the lives of those I love. She thanks me for doing something that I was blessed by doing-praying or studying or just talking with her-and it makes me think. Not all are growing strongly in their relationships with the Lord. I have not always had a burning desire to know the Lord better. How thankful I should be when He is growing our faith.

She has also reminded me to be thankful for things I get to do. She rejoices in the fellowship of believers such that I am reminded that not all have that blessing as abundantly as I do.

Sometimes she teaches me this inadvertently. Because of the physical ailments she has had, she has not always been able to be out among people as she loves to be. When I miss seeing her, I realize: we are not guaranteed the ability to attend functions. God doesn't owe us a night of caroling. Just because we wanted to go in order to serve isn't a guarantee we can. No one has an irrevocable right to attend even church. These are blessings, yet God so often grants them to us that it usually takes someone with an unusual situation like Merri for us to remember not to take them for granted.

Missing seeing Merri made me grateful for the times I did see her, and suddenly I realized: all those times I had just happened to do something with friends, had people over, visited someone, had a family gathering-all of them were unassured, undeserved blessings. Every single one. I could be in prison or in a sick bed or in a closed nation with no public Christians. I could have never met or never get to see the dearest people I know.

Instead, God blesses me on every side.

She also reminds me of the power of prayer. It was through talking to her that I realized how God had answered my prayers for spiritual growth. I am inspired by her unashamed desire to pray in any circumstance. And, through her glorious, miraculous physical healing, we had a visible picture of the glorious, miraculous spiritual healing every believer experiences, and could understand the greater miracle He had done in spiritual healing, in freeing her from slavery to fear, as He had freed her from slavery to food. Praise the Lord! may we never forget that wonderful time of rejoicing, such a beautiful picture of the joy that freedom in Christ brings.

Over and over again, Merri has drawn me to think. Her discernment has challenged my tendency to accept whatever I am told. Things most people would never give another thought she considers, measuring them against the Word, and I am convicted. Like the Bereans, we too must search the Scriptures to find out if things are true, even if they are given by trustworthy people. Regardless of the consequences, I must agree with the Scriptures. This is hard, sometimes, as even in the eyes of Christians you look prudish, legalistic, or just silly when you insist on the character of God revealed in His Word.

For the gospel would transform our lives, if we but believed it fully and understood it deeply. As Merri tries to live that out in her life, I am challenged to do the same.

I mentioned that we have connections. My mom knew her parents before they were married; they knew the Forneys and went to Friday Night too. We know people in common-the Daniels, the Coreys, my mom's cousin. I remember hearing about them years before meeting them. We once visited a church they went to. Perhaps I had actually seen her before. It's a funny thought.

We have found so many similarities in our childhoods. Large family traditions, records-that's the precursor to CD's in case you've forgotten-videos, songs, clothes-from pictures we've found multiple dresses and shirts they wore as kids that we also had-ATI, books...we just laugh when we find another thing. But it is our love for Christ and our desire to please Him that binds us most closely.

Imagining Merri reading this, I see her saying no, no, she's not all that, she is such a sinner, and that my first impression was probably closer to the truth than my latter opinion. Yet she may not, for she knows how God works. Was not Paul, one of the greatest men who ever lived, the "cheif of sinners"? It is God who makes beautiful pottery out of cold, hard lumps of clay. On our own, we are nothing. The glory goes to Him. That's another thing Merri has reminded me of. We are hopelessly sinful, unworthy to be an example to anyone. Yet, Paul says, "Imitate me as I imitate Christ." Our Lord promises to make us holy. We can take no credit; any good in us is His work.

Though I have been challenged by your openness, Merri, I still find it hard to tell people how much I appreciate them. But I want to make sure you to know how much I thank the Lord for you, so I take to writing.

Thank you for letting Him use you, Merri; for allowing, painful as it may be, the Potter to mold you the way He intended. I am so happy that He made you such a beautiful vessel, and I am so grateful that at last God saw fit to bring us together, to allow us to meet, and for the fellowship we can have in Christ. Thank you for your friendship to me this past year. Can it really only be a year? It seems like it's been so much longer than it has. May the Lord continue to grow you in holiness and to use you to bless the lives of many. I love you, my friend.

As she once said to me, I say back: I am so glad there can never again be a time when I don't know Merri.