My Best Friend Becky

I first met Becky when we were grouped together in a human video as angels, flapping our wings at Chris' (playing God) feet, and we had to be completely, national level, in sync. We were both new at this human video, acting stuff; I was frightened to silence and she giggled uncontrollably at the awkwardness of our roles. That was the beginning of our best-friendship. As a child and a pre-teen, I was plagued and paralyzed by fear, anxiety, and insecurity. But this lovely lady, four years my senior, was my saving grace. 

She looked past my crocked smile and social inhibitors. She crossed the threshold, sought me out, and saw me for me. She took me out, showed me music, and encouraged me to just be me with her contagious joy, positive energy, and silly quirks. She listened to my voice and the expressions of my heart. There were many a day when she called me up, picked me up, and we would go on timeless adventures to who knows where. And that was the beauty of it. Just driving down an open road to see where we'd end up; where the conversation in the vehicle was much more exciting than reaching any destination. There were many a night when we would lay awake telling God stories, dissecting homosexuality, discussing our current youth group situation, and dreaming of our futures with our God-given destiny. 

Yesterday I had the privilege of re-connecting with this friend of seven years. We immediately and easily engaged in conversation. Only, we didn't sort out youth group drama, ponder boys, or plan out our futures like we used to. Instead, we talked about church ministry, worship music, marriage, babies, and God's purposes being fulfilled in our lives. We reflected and reminisced on this long-term, life-time, God-ordanined best-friendship. She shared the depths of her heart, and I shared mine. Just like old times.

Becky, you made growing up beautiful and fearless journey. Thanks for always being a timeless best friend and kindred spirit.

-BJM

Do you remember?

This past Sunday we had our Tenth Anniversary for our church. Ten years ago yesterday marks the Sunday my parents stepped out in faith and did something crazy for God. Planting a church in a foreign city with 8 kids and counting. People told us it was impossible - but we had something they didn't. We had vision. A God-given vision.

So Sunday we celebrated. We celebrated the church that Jesus grew. All three services combined under a tent in our parking lot. We opened with the classic men's special, then seven songs from the worship team (I used no sheet music!), and my daddy's sermon that gave me a warmth that contradicted the temperature. It was cold, it was exhilarating, it was emotional, it was historical.

When passing by the mobs of people I greeted and embraced, some familiar old faces and other unbeknownst to me, one question still echos in my mind....and I couldn't even tell you who asked it.

"So do you remember? Do you remember when it all started?"

"Do I? Oh yes. I remember everything"

I remember, at ten years old, my dad's question to us kids at the dinner table at 8 Ruth Circle.

"If you could have your own church, what would you name it?"

As you can probably imagine, this quickly turned into a silly game and got us girlies into hysterics. We came up with all sorts of odd names for a church, starting with "Saint Marks". But at ten years old...his question got me thinking.

I remember being angry...livid, that my dad had promised me he would one day be my youth pastor but was now breaking his promise to become a dull, old senior pastor in an old people's retired town. He would no longer have the hip office down the hall, the third door on the right where he pastored and was recognized by all the "cool" kids from youth group I wished so badly one day I would become.

I remember being on the search for a house. Something temporary, somewhere we could have pets (for good ol' Spencer), somewhere we could live in and hold services, somewhere we could afford. 100th Clideside will always hold a special place in my heart.

I remember being heart-broken leaving my friends I'd grown up with to move into a gated, retired, community. A homeschooler with no neighbors and no kids my age at church! Needless to say, this is when and where Morrow sister bonding began. We were all each other had! Literally.

I remember spending hours curling my hair (at ten years old) for our very first service inside our home. Beth complimented me and made my efforts worth it.

I remember all the faces that attended the very first day, the excitement in the air, and my dad's voice that carried throughout the house from the living room. I love my daddy's preaching.

I remember meeting my very first best friend in Williamsburg, Tierney Cornelisse. I remember our first conversation was about the new "Princess Diaries" movie in theaters. We became quick friends and still are best friends today.

I remember that gigantic trailer we used to haul all of our equipment in to our very first, official, location! Clare Bird Baker Elementary School.

I remember band practices heard from all the way around the bend near the library while we set up chairs, positioned kidzone, and set out crispy creame doughnuts. We had a rockin' hospitality team.

I remember being a sixth grader and being oh so over kidzone when we sang songs like "who is the king of the jungle - oooo-ooo, who is the king of the sea - gable-gable-gable" (with hand motions).

I remember Russell. The coolest, most goofy youth pastor ever. I remember the way he scrunched up his face when he worshiped, the way he strummed that guitar. I'll never forget the many accents, funny faces, and corny jokes throughout his preaching. But most of all, his moving sermons that many times brought me to the alter.

I remember when the Batten girls came to our church. They may as well have been gods to me. I remember how beautiful I thought they were, how they changed the dynamics of our youth group, and how they exemplified love between sisters. They'll never know the impact they had on my life.

I remember our drama team, JCrew. Probably the single thing that actually broke me out of my shell. Not just a shell of being shy, but a shell of insecurity - of being scared of people and what they thought of me. I became bold, God-fearing, and a young woman of faith and prayer. This ministry changed my life. Sometimes I think and wonder where they all are and if they still remember the days we ministered our human video on the sidewalk in the middle of Time Square.

I remember my best friend, Becky (now Clark). Kindred Spirits, we were. She looked past my crooked smile and awkward quirks. She was four years older, but in our worlds, it didn't matter. I love love, and still love her to this day. Becky, you made growing up such a beautiful and fearless journey.

I remember our move to another new building, Jamestown High School, and that silly excuse for a stage my dad preached on while the rest of us prayed he wouldn't fall off of it.

I remember the first time Adam lead worship....whow....it was rough.

I remember our hire of Pastor Jonathan, being in his choir, and all the songs we used to sing. Those harmonies are still ingrained in my head. I promise, in his choir is where I learned the art of harmony.

And oh....I remember Chris Gillott. The very best and very worst thing that happened to me as a youth. May 7, 2007 is a date I will never forget. I'll never forget the shock of the news to my naive little ears sitting on the third row. How my ears burned and my hearing left me as I rushed out the door to hide in the security of my van to release my emotions. Only later to be joined by two more sobbing sisters. I remember that night...that awful Sunday night. The girls crawled up in my daddy's bed and balled our eyes out while dad consoled us as best he could. No matter how many tears we cried or how many times we talked it through, nothing could take away the gloom that hung over the month of May.

I remember when my dad took over the youth ministry when Chris left. How dare those who said the youth group fell apart after he left. The youth group thrived with record numbers that Summer when we had Nexus in our home. Kinda like when we first started...with food, fellowship, discussion/teaching. A time of much needed healing for our battered group of students. I don't know if you know this or not, but my daddy excels in everything he does. So I guess my daddy fulfilled his promise of becoming my youth pastor after all. :)

I remember my dad's disappointment (although never shown) as our church, like most, was a revolving door, and the numbness that followed.

I remember the emotional roller coaster when the music theatre was both taken, put, taken, and than miraculously put back into out hands....and the months of renovation that followed.

I remember my daddy’s Christmas-day kind of grin as we followed the “hearse” directly behind the police officer to our new facility. And how many times he said “we're marching fourth on March 4th”.

I remember the first time I played keys for Sunday morning service and how I walked off the stage because I couldn’t remember the chords to the last song.

I remember the souls that were touched during TLP. The salvations, the miracles, and the unity we all experienced being apart of such a life-altering ministry.

I remember meeting Sammie Madison. Her first night she came to Nexus I invited her to sit by me. Her on one side of me, and Kyle Ashely on the other. I remember her getting up on stage crying, overwhelmed by the love of Christ, and all I could do was embrace her. Seeing her life transform over the next year...it’s because of people like Sammie Madison why we, Crosswalk, do what we do. I’m so so so proud of my best friend.

And in fact, remember much much more....

What an incredible journey it has been these last ten years. I've always said that the worst things in my life happened in this church. On the other hand, the very best things in my life happened in this church. And when you look at the grand scheme of things? This church has molded who I am and has refined my character. Am I bitter for the bad? No chance. I'm better because of it.

If you made it through all that (I'm guessing a couple Morrow sisters did), I thank you for listening. So,

do you guys remember?

If so, what? I'd love for you to share. I'm certain there are many details left out. :)

Well, happy 10th anniversary, Crosswalk Community Church. You've changed my life and so many others. Greater things are yet to come!