Love as He Loves

There were days this past month when I left work thoroughly disgusted with people. I briefly pondered that question some ask when questioning Christianity: “How could God send good people to hell?"

He doesn’t.

I felt like my eyes were being truly opened to the reality of the world, and I was ashamed of what I saw. Did I ever see humanity as innately good? How foolish I must have been.

Why would Jesus come to save this? We choose our paths. Why would He go out of His way for us? These thieves, these liars, these abusers, these drug-dealers, these racists, these bad parents, these dirty people...

After a few weeks of chewing on this, I felt like I got part of an answer today.

Yesterday, I dealt with someone who openly disliked others because of color. He didn’t like foreigners, specifically ethnic foreigners. There were other issues as well, and I walked away from the situation just a little amused by the ignorance, yet vast potential, he displayed. The kid was a brilliant idiot. I told a co-worker about him, and my co-worker looked at me and asked, “Didn’t you hear about him?” He went on to tell me about the life this kid has lived.

“He witnessed his brother commit suicide…”

There was more, but I really don’t remember it because I was overwhelmed by the horror of that one thing. When he came back to class today, I saw him in a new light.

We soon were faced with a new problem. A quarrel broke out between a couple who are now living together. He’s 18; she’s 17. They live with her parents. Neither one brings much to my class aside from drama. His parents don’t want him. His dad locks himself away in a room whenever his son comes home. His mom will have nothing to do with him. He has money, but he has no one. And he’s crying in the hall. He doesn’t know what to say, so he sits and half-heartedly complains about another student.

When school ended, my co-worker and I talked about the day… about these boys. He shrugged under the weight of helplessness as he started walking away.

“You know what they say. It’s easier to build a boy than repair a man."

I hear this boy crying in the hall and I break inside. Every day I come across people I want to protect from life, from parents, from friends, and from themselves. I see the path they are walking, and I want to stop them from continuing. I want to save them from the wreckage that is continually perpetuated throughout their lives and I grasp a taste of understanding. Yes, there are days when I lack pity, and I just want to see them walk out my door. Then there are days when I get a glimpse of that person the way Jesus must see him. The way He sees me.

He saw the road we were traveling and wanted to save us from ourselves. He wanted to come down and hold us close, away from harm. And so He came. He saw us, not as the sin, but trapped in it. He reached out His hand and waits for us to grab it.

I have grabbed it, but I know I’m not always aware of how far He brought me. I forget how He made me new, and I look down to those who are still worn. It is times like these when I am reminded of what was done, and I pray for the ability to even begin to love as He has loved.