ode to bob

I was so scared. I knew it was God’s will, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Seven years ago last week, at the age of 49, I moved from the St. Louis area and re-settled in Indianapolis to enter full-time ministry. Meanwhile, my wife and three kids were back in Missouri, finishing out the school year and constantly showing the house to potential buyers.

We were apart for six months, something I will never—ever—do again. 

It would have been so helpful to have them around as I was adjusting to a brand new life. Literally everything was new to me: The responsibilities, the city, the church and the people.

Learning what it meant to be a full-time preacher and people’s names at church was intimidating enough, but the other stuff—the personal stuff—added enormously to my anxiety. Things like where to live, how to get from here to there, where to bank and where to find a trustworthy auto mechanic made my head hurt.

Thinking back to those early days still makes me cringe a little, wondering how a guy so set in his ways was able to make the transition.

The credit, of course, ultimately goes to the Lord. Without His sustaining grace I really don’t think I would have survived intact. And my wife Paula was a rock the whole time, holding down the fort back in St. Louis while I was busy changing careers in a different city. She was absolutely amazing.

But there was another factor in my making it through: The Bobmeister.

Without Bob, my roommate of so many months, there wouldn’t have been somebody there when I got home, nobody to talk to, nobody to hang with and nobody to complain to.

And, of course, nobody to sit on my lap.

Photo by Eric M. Little

Before you start wondering about my sexual orientation, Bob’s my cat. More than that, Bob’s my main man.

It was during those six months that he and I bonded like never before. I mean, we’re buds. To this day, he follows me around at home like a faithful dog and is intensely jealous whenever Paula sits next to me on the couch. (After those six months of exclusivity, he still has problems sharing me with others.)

Why do I bring this all up? To emphasize, yet again, the importance of having a friend, somebody you can count on. For six months Bob was pretty much it. Not nearly as good as a human friend, to be sure, but he did the best he could.

And so I pay tribute to the Bobmeister here today. Thanks, Bob. Too bad you can’t read, bud.

What about you? Do you have a buddy? Somebody you can talk to, confide in, complain to and hang with? It could be a pet, but a real life human being’s even better. In fact, much better.

If you have a buddy, why not stop and praise God for him or her right now?

If you don’t, I suggest you start praying for one and acting like a friend toward others. That’s a potent combination I believe the Lord will eventually honor.

And why should you go to so much trouble? Because we all need a Bob in our lives.

“Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.”1

1  John 15:13