©iStockphoto.com/Donna Elkow-Nash, Sean Locke,Shelly Perry,
Inger Anne Hulb Jennifer Trenchard, Nancy Louie

Many people who long for eternal life can’t figure out what to do on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

I’ve heard that saying and have pondered the question of what we might ultimately do when we have an eternity’s worth of time on our hands. I’ve decided it won’t be a problem. My plan is to spend much of it making new friends and renewing old friendships.

Traveling often provides me with many opportunities to collect new friends, even if only for a few minutes or a few cramped hours in an airplane seat. It is one of my favorite hobbies. My first new friend on this trip is a lady who was struggling to feed a couple of crumpled dollars into the Smarte Cart machine. I inserted my credit card and pulled the cart out for her, and then proceeded to pay for one of my own. This small act of service was, admittedly, born more of my impatience and desire to get my own cart and collect my luggage than anything else, so I was embarrassed by the overflow of gratitude she bestowed on me. First she tried to give me her two dollars in payment, but I told her that if the machine didn’t want those worthless, crumpled dollars, neither did I.

It turns out that my new friend is the head of the Orchid Society. She wants to buy me lunch, give me an orchid plant and take me to her church. I told her I already had a church that I attend. She said that if I went to church with her one week, she’d go with me the next. I plan on taking her up on that. I’ve now got her phone number on a ticket stub in my bag.

We parted ways, and I went outside to the curb, calling the hotel where I would be spending the night so they could send over their shuttle. A brief discussion informed me that, contrary to what the internet had informed me, they had no airport shuttle. I was distressed that the price of a cab ride would negate much of the savings on the room.

Standing nearby a man spoke. “I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation. My wife should be here any minute to pick me up and we drive right by that hotel. We would love to give you a ride.”

Gee, maybe God was listening.

It turns out that his wife is the editor of a new women’s magazine called Hybrid Moms for mothers who combine motherhood and entrepreneurial careers. I pitched an idea to her for an article about being a mother who writes and who gets much of her material from her children. We exchanged business cards.

Tales out of Texas

On the plane the next morning from Oakland to Dallas, I sat next to Bruce, a young father from Dallas, and we talked about how challenging it was to raise children with values. When he opened his book to read, I knew that was my signal to shut up and eat my peanuts, but I asked one more question about the religious book he was reading, and we spent the rest of the flight on that subject.

Waiting in the baggage claim section was another new friend, Lynn. She is incredibly funny, obsessed with knitting, and I met her through writing this column. She had organized a fireside for the singles in her stake with me as the speaker. The real reason we did that was so that we would have an excuse to meet. I spent the weekend at her house. She fed me Tex-Mex, taught me to line dance and bought me my very own Texas-sized guest towel. If laughing and talking burned calories, we would both be mere shadows of our former selves by now.

The fireside went well. I got to meet a whole new group of single folks, hear their stories, and feel of their spirits. I love looking out into the congregation when I present a fireside and see one or two smiling faces, or sometimes someone dabbing a tear away, and knowing that I am making a difference in some small way.

Monday morning Lynn dropped me at my hotel, where I would be spending the better part of the week bunking in with the mother of the bride, until our respective husbands arrived for the wedding. Somewhat apprehensive, I waited in the room and wondered.

It took me about five minutes to know that all my fears were groundless. Karen and I have spent several days finalizing wedding preparations, hitting the craft store, the fabric store, the grocery store. We took a moonlight swim in the pool, grateful to each other for our middle-aged (assuming we live to be over 100) figures.

We took an inadvertent detour when trying to find the site where the wedding reception will be held, and were forced to covet our way through an upscale neighborhood and tour a model home to find out what $600,000 will buy in Texas. The answer is: a lot. And I don’t mean just a piece of ground. Even though they could tell we were “Looky Loos,” we didn’t care.

It has been a three-day slumber party, with us waking just early enough each morning to get in on the last five minutes of the complimentary breakfast buffet. We look forward to meeting many times in the future at the special events of our unborn grandchildren. I know that no matter how long it has been since we have seen each other, we will be able to pick up as if we had seen each other yesterday.

I imagine it will be that way in the eternities when we are reunited with friends from our mortal days, renew acquaintance with those we knew from our premortal life, and can spend the rest of eternity going around making new friends.

That is going to be fun, y’all.