Yancy

Yancy was 2 years older than me. I was in 6th grade, he was in 8th- but I knew the first time I saw his super tan skin and white-blond surfer hair- he was the one for me. When you live in Florida- particularly in the 80's- there was no look that could beat the surfer look. Alas- we had little contact since my middle school separated 6th grade from everyone else. We were in our own separate building, quarantined from the truly interesting kids- especially the surfers. It was like pergatory- no longer in elementary school but not quite in middle school. We might catch glimpses of the older kids as we passed through the main building on our way to the cafeteria but usually they were behind closed doors locked away in class. But on this day it was as if the stars aligned and fate would have its way- Yancy was sent to the 6th grade building right as we were changing classes. I was in the hallway with my best friend, Molly, as he burst through the double doors- his hair blindingly bright in the sun. Not only was he right here but on this particular dayI had brought my camera to school. It is amazing how quickly two middle school girls can concoct a plan- mere milliseconds and we knew exactly what to do.
We followed him at a safe distance down the crowded hallway carefukl not to lose him( made easier by the hair)- he finally turned and went into a relatively empty classroom- Molly called out "Yancy!" and when he turned around I snapped his picture. Then we ran.
I will admit the last phase of this plan needed a little work- but overall it was a success. He looked like a deer in headlights in the photo but it captured his shiny white hair perfectly. So now I had a picture of him, knew where he went to school, where he lived, I even knew what his dad did for a living ( not hard since he owned the coolest surf shop in town, of course). By all appearances, Yancy and I were pretty tight. Except for one thing- I had never actually spoken to him( something I had effectively secured as permanent since the picture incident).

A lot of us approach our relationship with Christ the same way. We know who He is, who His Dad is, what He likes and dislikes, we have the Book He's written prominently displayed in our home- we can even quote some of the more famous things He's said...but we've never actually talked with Him.We may have prayed a sinner's prayer- never considering He might want more than a confession. He might really want us- not just for us to bow low and profess our unworthiness but for us to move from there into His arms- embracing His worth as our own, His love as sincere.
Mine and Yancy's relationship was short-lived- no surprise. Those imaginary ones usually are. You can't sustain something as intimate as a relationship, be it with God or a spouse or even a child- where both are not fully invested in knowing the other and being known- with all our failures and inadequacies- bringing both what we have and what we lack to the table. Fortunately with God- He is fully invested and has everything we lack.