The minister tried to break my will. Though he hurt me, he failed. I am incredibly stubborn but have never imagined that my stubbornness saved me. There was Someone in my life Whose will he could never break. Though the minister didn’t know, that Someone has always had my back, kept His arms around me. The minister was never fighting me.
I don’t know how, but I knew I was not to speak of my Friend to any of those around me unless he (or she) passed my litmus test: Do you know my Friend? Not just, can you talk about my Friend but do you know Him? Is He your Friend too? There is a je ne sais quoi about those who know Him. It’s not perfection. It’s hope and endurance and joy and the willingness to be wrong. It’s knowing that they too rest their heads on the shoulder of the One Who took on the sins of the world and not only didn’t break, but revealed sin and death as huge, terrible jokes.
I wish the minister had known my Friend. I hope at the moment he was dying, his heart and eyes opened and he saw my Friend reaching out to embrace him and tumbled into Jesus’ arms. The worst thing the minister did was refuse to let the best Friend ever break his stony heart and cradle him in His love. My heart still breaks for him.
Every Friday,100s of bloggers set a timer, write for 5 minutes, and then publish the results. We don’t edit or engulf ourselves in concerns about whether our writing is worthy to be seen. We expose our incomplete, unpolished thoughts and words to each other and our readers. Kate Motaung’s, at Heading Home, provides the prompt on Thursday evening. We all link our posts there and tweet them with the hashtag #FMFParty. Join us.