My friend died in 2018. His name was Kim. We were best friends from 1973 to 1977. These were my undergraduate college years at General Motors Institute in Flint, Michigan. Since those days, the school has changed its name to Kettering University.
Kim was the old married guy in my class of 23 Electrical Engineering students. Yes, GMI is a small school. He was maybe 25 years old, the rest of us were 19 or 20. One day, Kim approached me wanting to know if I wanted to work on a homework set with him. “Sure,” I said, “Let’s see if we can solve these problems.”
We found a table in the café, located in the basement of the dormitory. We took out our Hewlett-Packard calculators and got to work on the assignments from our Thermodynamics class. We shared the joy of learning to understand difficult concepts and how knowing these things could be useful.
I had made a few friends so far in college, but no close ones. I was the kind of guy who was quite happy to be mostly alone and on my own.
“Do you play tennis?” He asked.
“No, I’ve never played,” I said.
“I’ll teach you if you want to learn. I have an extra racket, and we could play tomorrow during the afternoon when we have no classes,” He offered.
I remember thinking and being somewhat surprised by how much this guy wanted to get to know me. He must like me. I said, “Sure, I’ll give it a try.”
Over the next few months, we became best friends. We had all of the same classes. We walked around together, we ate lunch together, played tennis together, and we worked on our homework together. I met his wife, and we were all great friends. We built cherished memories over the years it took to earn our degrees. We liked many of the same things. We liked different things too, and introduced each other to them. I was never good enough to beat him in tennis, but I got better, and hopefully, there was ample competition so that he had fun playing. He never once showed any unhappiness with my rather slow tennis learning curve.
He was a very smart guy. He was in the Air Force and served his years as an air traffic controller at a fighter base in Texas. When he finished his service, he wanted to learn all he could about the electronic systems he used every day in the control tower. We both loved learning about electricity and electronics as we pursued our degrees in Engineering. Neither of us knew Jesus during these years, but we were quite happy and doing well in life.
We parted ways after celebrating graduation with a two-week vacation to Texas. Then we went our separate ways, pursuing careers in different places.
After a few years, I figured something out. Kim intentionally targeted me to be his friend. I didn’t actually figure it out; one day it just dawned on me. He wanted a friend in our class, and he chose me. I think, partially because of my success academically, but also for my personality, which was compatible with his. It didn’t feel like I was his “friend target” at the time. This realization takes nothing from our friendship, which was genuine and mutual. It was just a realization.
I shared this understanding many years later with his widow, and she verified that it was true. I’m humbled by this and miss his friendship. It was solid, joyful, real, undeserved, and unconditional.
Jesus, for me, is like Kim. Jesus sought out my friendship. Jesus worked patiently for 34 years trying to win me as a friend. He worked on problems with me, He gave me priceless gifts, He sent a steady stream of his friends my way to invite me. He saved me from my own folly a number of times. He was my friend from the start. We embraced when I was 34.
My friendship with Kim taught me what friendship is. What it feels like to have someone want me as a friend. Jesus wanted me as a friend from the start. What a gift.
Jesus is pursuing those who know Him not.[i]
[i] Revelation 3:20, Jeremiah 31:3, Psalm 139:7-10, Isaiah 65:1-3, Luke 19:10,
This article is an excerpt from David’s book, Resolute Joy.
