Acceptance and Love

She lives in a one-bedroom apartment with her two children on the top floor of an inner city housing project. A king-size mattress lies in the middle of the living room floor. The television is blaring, the radiator is wheezing, and in the corner there are 3bulging, dark greengarbage bags. (There are no elevators in the building,so my guess is she is waiting for the help or the strength to haul the garbagebags down the7 flights of stairs to the dumpster.) Despite the fact that her front door has two deadbolts, the door hangs looselyin its hinges. Duct tape covers the entire length of the door and is usedto cover thegap between the door and the jamb. The tiny entrance hallway between the front door and the living room doubles as a closet and is neatly lined with shoes, boots, coats, belts and scarves.

She is happy to see me. We hug. She mutes the television, but finds comfort in watching the silenced actors instead of making eye contact with me.

We make small talk for a few minutes and then start to discuss the recent loss of her less-than-loved-one, her finances, her children’s safety. She is trying to work her Grief Recovery Tools®, but gets overwhelmed and indulges in what the Grief Recovery Handbook® calls STERBS®, Short Term Energy Relievers.

When our time is up, Iask her if she would like to praytogether before saying good-bye. She quickly says yes, turns off the televisionand kneels before me.Oh, no, I tell her. We will either kneeltogether, or stand. I ama human, fallen, ball of dirt and no-one, absolutelyno one should kneel before me.We opt to stand, mostly because she has hard word floors and my knees don’t work as good as they used to.

We pray a simple prayer, thanking Jesus for his provisions, acknowledging His greatness, and asking for His continued help and protection. When we are done, we embrace. As I gather my coat and prepare to leave she says:

“I have friends and all that I talk to but youare different. You don’t judge me. I getexcited every Tuesday when I know you are coming. And I always feel happier after we talk.”

Her commentswarm my heart. She trusts me. She feels safe with me. She understands that I respect her and care deeply about her struggles. She’s also beginning to understand that part of what she feels in me is the love of God, the spirit of the living Christ within me.

Imagine living your whole life and never everexperiencing the true love of God.

The Lord sent John to bear witness of the light (John 1:7) andChrist himself said that others would know that we are his disciples by the love we have one for another. (John 13:34-35) So doesn’t it stand to reason that one core way that we reach others forChrist is to show themtrue,no-strings-attached love? The kind of love that “makes them feel better”?

My frienddoesn’t understand yet that part of the reason she feels better after we are together is because the Holy Spirit flows through me to her.One day I hopeto share with her my book of Acts experience of the infilling of the Holy Ghost and Jesus name baptism (Acts 2:38) ;but, until that time comes, it is enough that she recognizes that there is something different about me that makes her feel comforted.

Look at the world around you today. Pause and reallylook into their eyes. Do you see hope? Do you see Jesus? If not, pray for anopportunity to offerone of the greatest human gifts of all:Complete and absolute acceptance and love.