My Friend, Stretch

I was in a spiritual tailspin. My training as a missionary wasn't progressing like I thought it should, and I was questioning my call. I wasn't feeling physically well, and I didn't feel like doing much of anything. But most of all, I was depressed that two of my most cherished friends were moving on to new opportunities.

One of my friends, Pat, was accepted to pastor her own church, and my other close friend, Lisa, was expecting triplets. They had always been there for me when I needed them. Pat was always there when I needed a listening ear. Lisa and I went swimming together. I was happy for them, but I was sad that my relationships with them had to change.

My life would never be the same without Lisa and Pat. Who would ever take their place?

All of this, plus more, was on my mind as I was walking to church one spring day. It was my birthday, and I didn't want anything from anyone. I especially didn't want anyone to talk to me.

"Good morning Tait. How are you?" asked a gentleman I hardly knew. Sure, he was in my Sunday school class, but we weren't close. Anyway, I had forgotten his name.

Great, I thought. This is just what I need. Someone is talking to me. I don't need this. I looked him in the eye and ran away like some kid who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. For the rest of the day, I felt guilty for what I did to that man. He was, after all, just saying hello.

The next day, as I was going through my e-mail, one message caught my eye. The subject line was, "Are you okay?" and it was from Charles "Stretch" Ledford. That was that man's name! His nickname is "Stretch" because he is over 6 feet tall. I did wish I knew him better, but this wasn't really a good time. I didn't want to make a new friend right at that moment.

This guy, however, really cared if I were okay. I decided to e-mail him back an apology for the way I acted outside of church and told him about my recent depression. Stretch e-mailed me back and asked if he could come over and talk. I had some left over birthday cake, so I invited him over.

Stretch quietly sat as I explained what I'd been going through. "It has been a rough couple of months," I said, "and I don't understand why."

I talked for almost an hour. A flood of emotions and thoughts came out of me. I talked about my correspondence classes I was taking for my ministry training and how they were harder than I had ever imagined. I talked about my physical and mental health. And I talked about the changes in my relationships with Pat and Lisa. Then, a strange thing began to happen ¾ I began to feel better.

When I was done, Stretch thanked me for telling him what I had been going through and shared some of his story. As he was talking, I realized that I wasn't the only who were going through trials. Stretch had his own demons too, and he trusted me enough to open his heart and mind to me.

A friendship was born.

I started to tell Stretch about one of my good friends, Barb, who lived near San Francisco. She had called me the night before and invited me to come for a visit. We had talked about it before, but the logistics of it all seemed impossible.

"Well Tait," Stretch said. "Let's see what we can do. You need to get out of here for a while. I can see that."

The next day, I received another e-mail from Stretch. "Remember when you said you wanted to go and visit your friend in CA?" he wrote. "Well, I talked to my wife, and we want to give you some of our frequent flyer miles so you can do that."

What a gift! I went to California and spent a week with Barb. She ministered to me, and I left with a new vision for life. Stretch, in the meantime, went out of his way to make my trip happen. He got my tickets for me, drove me to the airport, helped me onto the plane, and waited for me until the wee hours of the morning on the night of my return. (My flight from Denver was canceled, and I had to take a two-hour bus ride down to Colorado Springs.)

What a friend!

My friendship with Stretch just grew from there. From daily e-mails to seeing each other weekly, my friend and I were always together. Stretch helped me fix my wheelchairs, run errands, and he even volunteered to help me with a project I always wanted to do.

Stretch is a photographer; I am a writer. I asked him if he would take some pictures for my writing projects, and he graciously agreed. From a session in his studio, to the swimming pool, to shooting around downtown Colorado Springs, Stretch and I had a great time working on the project. We shared laughs between takes. We talked about our hopes and dreams. And our fears. We became very close, and I treasure the experience.

On a cool, spring day in 2001, Stretch and I got together for coffee. Stretch had been gone on an assignment for a couple of weeks, and we had a lot to talk about. As we were catching up, Stretch confided in me that he and his wife Noni, might have to move.

"To be honest with you, I don't know if we'll stick around here," he said. "Noni has been out of work for six months, and the economy doesn't look good. We own a house in Richmond, and we might have to move back."

I didn't know what to think. My thoughts went back to the day when I ran into Stretch outside of church. I was getting over the loss of two close friends, and now Stretch might have to move?

Maybe it wouldn't happen.

Stretch and I spent a lot of time together that summer. He lived six blocks up the street from me, and I often stopped by with my dog on my evening walks. Stretch and Noni would be sitting down to dinner, and I'd join them. We tossed around the ball for my dog. One of us cracked a joke, and we'd laugh well into the night.

I hated to see the cold weather move in and the days get shorter. My evening walks got to be less and less, and somehow I knew in the pit of my stomach that summer was something special and might never happen again.

As fall turned into winter, something told me Stretch was moving back east. Still, his e-mail caught me off guard.

"Tait, my dear, dear friend... writing this is a bit emotional for me," he began. "Understand and appreciate my own words and my own way of saying this: I will absolutely miss you. I feel so blessed for having met you here, and for the genuine friendship that God has blessed us with. Yours is the one presence in my daily life that I will miss most sorely."

I stared at my computer screen. A rush of cold sweat crept over me. I didn't know what to think or do. Should I try to reply to the message? Should I just cry?

It was not fair. I felt like God was testing me. He has taught me when a friend leaves my life, God always fill it with someone else. He never leaves me without a friend. That's how Stretch came in my life in the first place. I got to know him after two of my friends moved on. I must believe it will happen again.

Perhaps it was fitting that I said good-bye to Stretch after church that winter's day. It was, after all, right outside the door where I first met him. Stretch leaned over to give me a hug, and we held each other for a minute. Tears were shed. We promised that we'd keep in touch. I walked him to the door, said good-bye, and went to get a cup of coffee expecting to bump into a new friend. This time I wouldn't run away. 

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