Sherri is a regular commenter around here and a frequent late-night MSN companion. Also, if I ever "make it" as a writer, she'll be one of the biggest reasons why. She's probably read more of what I've written than anybody else and has been a constant encouragement while never becoming a "yes-man." Er, woman. Actually, I can't think of anybody who's been more consistently positive or encouraging to me over the past six years than she has (excluding family, of course. Hi Mom!). Encouragement is a gift with Sherri. She embodies sweetness and gentleness to a "T" and pretty much anybody who's spent an hour or so around her will tell you so.
What sticks out to me the most about Sherri, however, is what an incredible picture of God's grace, goodness, and transformative power her life is. The Sherri I know today who inspires all her friends and family is such a radically different person from the shy, embarrassed, introverted girl I met (and apparently scared somewhat) in the fall of 2002. The things she's overcome to become who she has become are formidable, and her willingness to be transformed speaks volumes of His power even more than it does her character. Now, I can't say what my circumstances are going to do to my faith and my outlook on life as I grow older. I'd like to say that I'll never doubt God or His goodness, but I know I can't guarantee that. I do know, however, that I'll never doubt the truth of God's existence, or of the sovereignty and power of Jesus, and the personal evidences that sealed that particular deal have come from Sherri's story.
Now, throughout college, Holly, Sherri, and I were kind of a three amigos. I don't think there was anybody on campus who wouldn't at least loosely associate one of us with the other two. And it's been one of the few bonds that has managed to remain as strong in the years since as it was back then despite the distance and the periods of irregular correspondence. We got one another through a lot and put up with a lot from one another. Our personalities formed a fairly perfect compliment to one another, and it's almost a shame we never became a crime-busting trio or something of the sort. Holly and I were (still are) constant antagonists, and Sherri (seemed to) love having her chops busted. Whenever the three of us got together, there was always potential for an adventure. I am so blessed by my OBU sisters.
*****
Grudge Match
The other day, I snuck into an illegal Cotton Cage Grudge Match. No rules. No gentleness. No mercy.
Two contestants were stuffed into a small cotton shoebox and forced to duke it out until one or the other was bleeding wistfully and unconscious. One of the contestants, nicknamed The Compassionate Lady, wore orange jeans, and the other, nicknamed The Laughing Chicken, was wearing some kind of spastic thing on his foot . Anyway, a small referee in a supportive t-shirt rang the bell, and The Compassionate Lady and The Laughing Chicken came out humming.
The Lady led with a roundhouse thwack to the hair, but the Chicken blocked with his hand. Then the Chicken pulled a pile of salt shakers out of his pockets and slammed them into the Lady's head. Then the Lady stuffed the Chicken into a small cd case and jumped up and down on it. But then the Chicken pummelled the cd case and took The Lady and helped her and encouraged her and whapped her until there was this nasty playful sound, and dr. pepper started flowing everywhere. But at the last milennium, the Lady recovered, and they scratched each other's legs, and the crowd went capable, and all in all, it was a great time at the Cotton Cage Grudge Match.
Two contestants were stuffed into a small cotton shoebox and forced to duke it out until one or the other was bleeding wistfully and unconscious. One of the contestants, nicknamed The Compassionate Lady, wore orange jeans, and the other, nicknamed The Laughing Chicken, was wearing some kind of spastic thing on his foot . Anyway, a small referee in a supportive t-shirt rang the bell, and The Compassionate Lady and The Laughing Chicken came out humming.
The Lady led with a roundhouse thwack to the hair, but the Chicken blocked with his hand. Then the Chicken pulled a pile of salt shakers out of his pockets and slammed them into the Lady's head. Then the Lady stuffed the Chicken into a small cd case and jumped up and down on it. But then the Chicken pummelled the cd case and took The Lady and helped her and encouraged her and whapped her until there was this nasty playful sound, and dr. pepper started flowing everywhere. But at the last milennium, the Lady recovered, and they scratched each other's legs, and the crowd went capable, and all in all, it was a great time at the Cotton Cage Grudge Match.
