Spotting the Light of Future Friendship

When my daughter was 3, she loved the Shine-a-Light books from Chick-fil-A kids’ meals. These mini books show what appear to be normal illustrations, but when you shine a flashlight behind each right-hand page, something new appears. In “Secrets of the Seashore,” a flashlight reveals a starfish hiding in a tide pool and an octopus camouflaged by sand. “Secrets of the Rainforest” shows a baby monkey concealed by huge leaves and a hidden hummingbird sipping from a flower. Light from the paper’s other side reveals what was there all along but hidden from initial view. In my experience, sometimes the Holy Spirit highlights new friends this way, as if shining light on a person of future significance. “Wait and pay attention,” the light says. “This person will matter to you.” When I have noticed this spotlight, I’ve sensed that I will develop a close friendship with someone after only briefly seeing them, long before we spoke. It was as if the person’s face just stood out more than everyone else’s, and I knew the Spirit was telling me to get ready for something new.

When I worked at a huge corporation in Washington, DC, a new employee named Liz had an office on my floor. Each time I saw her, she seemed to be outlined as a person of future significance. We passed each other in crowded hallways, and it was like there was flashing sign above her head saying, “Future friend.” Once we passed directly and said “Hi” to each other, and I felt like I should have said more. But in that work culture, such forwardness would have been weird. I didn’t know how a friendship with Liz would happen. Despite my premonition, I knew I should sit back and see how God would help the connection unfold.

A few months after she was hired, Liz emailed to ask if I would edit a document for her team. We met for lunch to discuss the project and soon found we had so much to talk about that it was hard to stay focused on work. The friendship was happening. As we spent time on that project, we quickly became confidantes who talked daily, about anything and everything. I discovered that Liz was also a Christian. She brought joy to a workplace where I felt mostly isolated and unknown. She shared top-secret news of an early pregnancy with me. Within two months, I was there to talk and give hugs following her miscarriage. A few months later, she supported me during my own miscarriage, on days when I barely made it to work. As life continued, we shared the joys and nervousness of our first full-term pregnancies. Our young friendship quickly solidified through life-changing personal events. Neither of us had known how much the other’s support would be needed, providing a safe place to be “real” in the halls of office life.     

Two years later, when my daughter was a baby, someone else saw a friend spotlight on me. My husband and I had moved to Chattanooga, Tennessee, and I was adjusting to life as a stay-at-home mom. Every Thursday morning at 10:00, I took my daughter to baby time at our local library. We rarely missed a week. I needed a routine, and this hour was awesome (and free) baby education. In addition to sharing wonderful books, the librarian provided a unique feast for babies’ senses. She played different styles of music or used a bubble machine. She brought bags of spices for the babies to smell. She provided animals to pet and tunnels to crawl through. I was living through my daughter’s eyes as much as possible, smiling in wonder at the world. I was so in love with her one-year-old self that I wasn’t looking around for friendship. I was entirely focused on enjoying my child, in new-mom heaven.

It was a complete surprise one Thursday, as baby time ended, when a mom walked right up to me to begin a conversation. She introduced herself, “I’m Joohee,” and asked if I was a Christian. When I answered a surprised, cautious, “Yes . . . ,” she said, “I knew it! You talk to your daughter with such joy and love. I thought you might be a Christian.” Joohee explained that she’d felt prompted to speak with me after bringing her son to baby time for several months. In addition to sharing my faith, she was also a former teacher, like me. I understood our friend potential and suggested that we meet sometime without our kids. The following week, one evening at a coffee shop was the beginning of an extraordinary friendship.

Another time, after being part of a MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group for two years, I again sensed a spotlight on a future friend in the room. As a new school year began, a woman named Sarah started attending the group. For weeks, Sarah and I only spoke in passing at MOPS meetings, but I felt sure that we would someday be having deep conversations. One day in late September, my daughter and I ran into Sarah and her son at the park. We stopped to chat, and I almost—really almost—suggested a play-date. But I chickened out. We were still fairly new acquaintances. I wasn’t sure she was as ready to be my friend as I was to be hers. So I waited, continuing to trust that this new friendship was on the horizon and would arise in God’s time.

That winter at MOPS, Sarah and I finally ended up sitting next to each other and talked quite a bit more. Turns out we both didn’t enjoy doing craft projects, as the group was doing that morning. Turns out we both had the same sense of humor. Turns out we both had lived in bigger cities and were non-southerners in this Tennessee town. Most amazing—turns out we both lived in the same neighborhood. We soon were walking to play-dates at each other’s house. Another friendship had begun. Sarah and I have since shared the anxieties and joys of our kids starting kindergarten, adjusting to summer camp, and enduring a pandemic.  

Like light shining through the page of a kids’ flashlight book, God sometimes illuminates people in helpful ways . . . if we’re looking. The Holy Spirit can provide extra-vision goggles, steering us through the world using knowledge that is slightly beyond our own. Ordinary life becomes illuminated with extraordinary insight. This guidance can lead us into healing relationships and friendships we sometimes didn’t even realize we needed. I’ve learned to be ready when the spotlight seems to fall on someone new, and then to be willing to be vulnerable and share more about myself than usual. Even when I have to wait for life and friendship to unfold naturally, that divine flashlight provides preview of a wonderful new chapter, just hidden in the shadows, waiting for me to turn the page.

Author: Amy White Ziegler

Amy Ziegler has a Ph.D. in English and taught composition and literature for 14 years. She also worked as an editor for a research center in Washington, DC. She has published academic articles and a dissertation on psychological abjection in 20th-century American literature. Amy currently lives with her husband and seven-year-old daughter in the suburbs of Chattanooga, Tennessee. She leads church groups and field trips, organizes play dates and closets, and makes as much time for reading and writing as this season of motherhood allows. She is passionate about encouraging others to accept their role in shaping God’s ongoing creativity in their lives.