This was posted on Coffeehouse Christianity and it got me thinking:
"refrigerator rights". These are people who have earned the right to open up our lives (our refrigerators) and see what's inside. Sometimes they will even need to tell us that something stinks and needs to be taken care of." - Chris and his colleague borrowed this idea from Craig Groeschel.
Gretchen talks about these people in terms of drop-by friends. These are the people who simply drop by...for no "reason"...whenever. Sometimes they bring food or the kids or news but mostly they just bring themselves. There's an informality that illustrates more respect and greater intimacy than with those call-first friends who need a reason or excuse to come over.
I think we also have people who found themselves important enough to be on the outside of our refridgerators. Granted, this is a much easier group to get into, especially around Christmas when our fridge is usually covered by families dressed in coordinated outfits and forced smiles. But how many people to we allow ourselves to brag about authenically (verses those we brag about to make ourselves look more important)? How many people to take pride with when they accomplish something great?
And on the other side, who are those people in your life that you really allow to mourn with you and feel your pain? I just recieved news from a friend on that shock, stop everything level and, while I certainly can't feel the same level of loss as she is going through, I certainly hurt for her and her family. This is a person who, if there was only hundreds rather than thousands of miles between us, we would be in the car in a few minutes to be with. Have you offered yourself to someone in that way recently? Have you let them come to you?
I guess I'm in a wishful mood right now, looking forward to that time when we will be in a more permanent place and can have that level of intimacy and proximity with friends again.
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One time, in our old neighborhood, we were getting to know our neighbors. We had invited a few families over for homemade pizza . . . before everyone arrived Liam, then 9 months, pulled a dish off the edge of the table and cut his hand very badly. We had to call an ambulance, as we couldn't stop the blood from squirting from his little hand dangerously near his wrist. As we loaded into the ambulance, the neighbors came and got Aidan, who was hiding from the paramedics in his bedroom, and, by the time we had returned from the ER late that night, had jammied Aidan up, left us some pizza to eat in the fridge, picked up all the glass from the dish that had broken and had scrubbed all the blood up out of the carpet. (I guess we left the doors unlocked in the chaos.) Those gals have had "fridge rights" in my home every since. It's no small thing to have friends like that.
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