This Was a Meal That Changed My Life Forever

I think Becky asked if she could disciple me, but it sounded a lot like, “Would you like fries with that?”

I said yes, of course. I did have fries with my McDonald’s Quarter Pounder with Cheese that Wednesday evening. It was a meal to change my life – because it was followed by so much more.

“Follow me as I follow the Lord,” she might have said.

I did and do – and I know I am who I am today is because of what Becky offered all those yesterdays ago.

Back in 1980, Becky Taylor was one of the youth leaders at The Tabernacle, where my family attended church. Through eighth grade, I had spent my Wednesday nights as a Royal Rangerette, learning camping, life, and survival skills against the backdrop of the Bible, in the safe keeping of our leader, Marge Whitehurst.

She reigned in our small group of teens, the only Rangerettes in a national program focused on boys. Somehow, we managed to go to pow-wows and camp with the best of them, nursing our secret crushes on the boys camping a discrete distance away. (They were there to build fires and tie knots, not light our fires or tie THE knot.)

But even in that odd situation, I was a big – well, tall – fish in a small pond.

Leaving after I’d aged out of the program (or maybe tired of wearing brown uniforms) meant attending youth group – a much bigger pond with junior and senior high school students, as well as adults in the college and career group. (That led to my full-out teenage rebellion – captured here – that lasted a full half hour.)

But the youth group gave me Becky – and she knew the way to a young teen’s heart: free fast food and a ride to get it. She sweetened the deal even more by inviting my best friend, too.

I don’t remember that first conversation. I suspect Becky revealed her sinister plan to disciple us, make us more like Jesus, but it felt inviting and fun.

Becky collected me first, and together we drove across town to collect Jennifer. The three of us ate our McDonald’s meal talking and laughing, and then went to the Carpenter Shop youth group together. Just walking through the door with friends made all the difference in the world.

And Becky had become one.

Becky showed me how to live for Christ.

Even after I began driving and could buy my own meals, I leaned into my friendship with Becky because she followed Jesus and she walked me through my teenage dilemmas with wisdom, always pointing me to God. She led our Bible studies and small groups. I always bunked in her cabin – until I became a leader on my own.

I can even attribute my writing to Becky.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to start a journal of my spiritual life each day ever since Becky told me about hers,” I wrote in a thin, 9.5 x 6 inch, spiral-bound notebook on August 28, 1983, the year I graduated from high school. “She told me that because she writes in her book every day, she is sure to spend her quiet time with God each day.”

Then the full confessional began…

“As usual, after she told me this, I was all excited and ready to start a journal – but I needed a special day to start. After all, I can’t just start writing one day… and I didn’t have a notebook. Then after a couple of days contemplating the idea, I basically forgot about it.”

But I was writing that day because I’d read a passage in Winkie Pratney’s A Handbook for Followers of Jesus about keeping a daily devotional diary. Becky had lent me the book (which I never returned).

My first journal entry is five and a half college-ruled pages of cursive writing.

(I was windy even then!)

I have shelves lined with journals of all shapes and sizes filled with entries capturing my life with Jesus through four decades – so far!

A few weeks ago, I took the opportunity to read (part of!) that first entry to Becky when we met for breakfast in my former hometown. We hadn’t seen each other for 30 years!

The last time I’d seen Becky was when I had dinner with her family. I was widowed but brought a date to Becky’s house. She was married with two young children. A year later, I was married a second time with four children. We would add a fifth.

By then, Becky and her husband had moved to a different church, and coordinating Souders family activities and parenting little ones prevented me from seeing anyone who didn’t automatically cross my path on the rare visit to Sarasota.

I should have driven out of my way to visit Becky.

A year or so ago, we connected on Facebook, where I posted a link to my new blog posts. Becky is a faithful reader and commenter – and I often tell her any impact my life has on others for Christ is hers.

Now, after finding my old journal and reading that entry, I am sure of it.

And it all started with a Quarter Pounder With Cheese. With fries, of course.

A meal that changed my life.