My Friend

I sat in my chair. Bible open. Heart ready.

I started reading and as I read I began forming opinions. Slow and steady. Taking out my notebook, I jotted down my conclusions and ways to be a better Christian. I was so infatuated with the Bible. It had all my attention. 

Then I heard a friend call out to me with a voice loud and distressing.

I glanced up to see that she was completely different than myself or the girl I used to know. She made claims about her gender and sexuality that challenged my good Christian notebook. Her needs were an interruption and I wished she would go but she stood awkwardly there, awaiting my response and most likely anticipating my estrangement. 

So I dropped my gaze back to the pages in front of me and I let ancient laws and text distract me as I studied how I was supposed to interact with her now?

But the girl came after me like a hurricane wind,  “Please love me!” She said reaching out her hand, “Just as I am.” 

Her tears were upsetting. I didn't know what to do? So I began to pray for guidance. I prayed for her salvation. For God’s will and for answers that would make me feel comfortable again but God was still.

Then the sorrowful protest of my friend came again. I should have heard the siren, “Please, I’m begging you. I need to be loved as I am!” 

Now I became agitated. How dare she disturb my religion? She made me question my obedience to God and in the sanctuaries I grew up in, questions like that are sin. 

Stuffing my ears full of scriptures I turn my back on her desperation but God’s peace did not come with her excommunication. In fact I felt like somehow I had betrayed Him.

Was she not a child just the same as me? 

The image of God is to be a human and my God? My God  is still silent and in His quiet I am deeply disturbed and forced to go outside of my circle and move toward this person who needs to be heard. His child. I don’t know much about how to navigate a relationship with anyone like this. Yet she is a living breathing soul and so she is Jesus.

Quickly I take the scriptures out of my ears and go try to find her. Fearful for her life for many still cradle stones to harm her.

I search the alleys, bars, hotels and empty cars. 

I know my Jesus enough to believe that He would never abandon her and so neither must I. 

I run past churches with their open doors and pastors holding their prestigious memoirs.

And at last I find her. There where the bridge and river meet. The rough wood rails holding her cold bare feet.

Her intention plain, to find love in the water. The icy current beckons that it will believe her, comfort her and recieve her. 

What must I do? Jesus would see her heart and soul perfectly. He would know exactly what she needed most urgently.

Yet, how can I know the inside of a person? I cannot see what He sees, unless I’m entrusted with it. 

“There it is my Love,” God whispers softly, breaking His silence and breaking my heart. 

I understand Him. I must get closer to people, all of them, not just a part. 

I rush to the girl and drop my Bible in the sand so that I can grab hold of her with both of my hands,

“You are worthy!” I cry over and over again.

“You are worthy of knowing. You are worthy of loving. You are worthy of accepting, befriending and growing.” 

And then I prayed silently, Jesus, only when I have done this hard work of knowing will I have a clear understanding. Love solely comes with closeness. It cannot bloom in isolation or absence. 

As I walked past my Bible I picked it back up, put it in my back pocket and that was enough. My hands, my eyes, my ears and my soul were needed for so much more than perfect retaining and recitation of this spiritual manual. 

I was made to hold up my sisters and brothers not submerge them under righteous interrogation.

I was made to see their pain and feel unbent compassion not look for verses of condemnation.

I was made to hear the cries of the nations and I was made to be moved by all peoples, not only the ones inside buildings with steeples.

So here I stand beside my friend and as I hold her hand, she stoops down to help up another, her love teaching him to hope, for he is our brother. He exhales and with fresh breath, he reaches deep and saves one more life from death.  The one now loved stretches themselves out and rescues a child full of self-doubt. The circle begins to form, a deep, dedicated love for each one of us here. This is the perfect love that will cast out all fear.