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When I first met Marie, I never would've imagined we'd become friends. It was my first day in martial arts class. My son, Tony, had been taking tae kwon do for several months, and I decided joining him would be good exercise and a neat way to bond. As I stepped onto the mat-covered floor, a small, dark-haired woman wearing a black belt approached me. She smiled warmly, extended her hand, and said, "Hi! I'm Something Something Something." At least that's what I heard. She had a thick accent. German? French? I fumbled nervously, "Excuse me?" Without losing her temper (or giving me a karate chop), she patiently repeated, "I'm Marie Something Something." "Marie?" I asked. "Close enough," she responded. Within a few minutes she had me doing push-ups and wild kicks.
Over the course of the next few months, I learned her name was actually Marie-Paule Leonhardt, her accent was French, and she and I had just about nothing in common. True, we were both mothers, but her kids were grown while my son, Tony, was still in grade school. She enjoyed hobbies such as hunting (as in shooting elk), fishing (as in standing around in cold water), and camping (as in sleeping on the hard ground 30 miles from a decent restroom). Yet despite these differences, Marie and I became friends.
One day, I mentioned to her that I thought it might be nice if we got together for lunch sometime; I was testing the waters to see if Marie had any interest in getting better acquainted. After all, we were the only mothers in the class, and Marie seemed friendly. She agreed to lunch, and we soon met at a local sandwich shop. That became the first of many lunches we've shared together. From these times I've learned about Marie's rich European history and the whirlwind romance that brought her to America. I've discovered she's incredibly hospitable, goes out of her way to show friends she cares about them, and is a talented cook. Despite my initial skepticism, God brought Marie into my life and allowed us to form a friendship that's enriched my life.
This unlikely friendship, and others like it, got me thinking. Why do I look for friends who are exactly like me? Why do I think only women my age, married to husbands who like the same sports as mine, with kids the same age as mine, who volunteer in the same places I do, and who have the same beliefs as I, can be my friends? When I examined my closed-minded ways, I realized I was ignoring potential friendships all over the place!
I asked around and found I wasn't alone. My friend Cassie told me about her first impressions of Joelle, and how she was sure they'd never be friends. "Joelle has a blunt way of speaking; she's loud and freely shares her opinions," Cassie explained. "I thought she might find a better friend in someone else—not quiet, shy me!" Yet after being thrown together in a variety of church-related situations, Cassie saw deeper into Joelle's heart. She learned Joelle was firm when it came to standing up for her faith, had a great sense of humor, and sincerely listened when Cassie had concerns. Soon Cassie realized she'd found a friend.
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