No Greater Love

John 15:12-13

Common English Bible (CEB)

¹² This is my commandment: love each other just as I have loved you. ¹³ No one has greater love than to give up one’s life for one’s friends.

The last few days have been rough with a capital R. The guy who told me the story of watching his mom murdered, and being raped in the orphanage had a major relapse. He was drunk and unruly for five days. I probably wouldn't have noticed if he would have stayed in his apartment, but he knocked on my door at least twenty times a day. It stared on Wednesday and ended last night; with me taking his beer and vodka from him.

When he knocked on my door most of the time he left before I could get to the door. He left a gift of food behind each time. A package of hamburger, a bag of canned goods, package of microwave popcorn, chicken etc. I didn't know who was leaving me food, and wonder if someone in the building heard I was starving. Which I'm not, on the contrary I can afford to miss a few meals. I asked one of my neighbors that happened to be passing by, as I stood in the doorway with a gallon of milk in my hands completely perplexed. He told me who had just walked away from my door.

I walked to the guys apartment and asked him to please stop giving me all his food, or I will feel compelled to cook to make sure he had something to eat. I don't mind feeding him the word of God, but I haven't cooked much since my husband's death and my son grew up. I can eat a hotpocket and feed my whole family. I know this might sound lazy, but I don't have a problem with it. I cook when I have a taste for something special or once or twice a week on a good week.He insisted that I keep it, because "You prayed for me, and anyone that prays for me can have anything I own."

He's one of the nicest people I have ever met, but one of the most broken. I grew up with an alcoholic/drug addicted father. I have had my own struggles in the past. I know first hand the hopelessness and pain, but I also know the chaos. It got worse and worse too. One day I thought he was sober enough to go to the market...big mistake! He seemed to have gotten drunker by the minute in the backseat of my brother-in-law's car. I probably wouldn't have taken him with us, but he was about to get in a cab to the market, and he asked to ride with us. He refused to shop, got lost, and I had to rescue him from two burly cops. That was day three. It got worse. One day he knocked on my door soaking wet, he said, "sis, I took a bath."I said, "In your clothes?" He assured me that was the best way to do it, as he could wash his clothes at the same time.

During the most chaotic moments I prayed. I prayed because I started to remind myself of that little girl that picked her daddy up from the front lawn. She was always scared, disappointed and ashamed. This time the only missing emotion for me was the shame. However it was very apparent that he was ashamed, he kept apologizing. He cried and felt as if he disappointed Abba, me and a few others in the building that call him friend. I assured him the only person he disappointed is himself.

Eight years ago Jesus called me his friend, the day before the council meeting that I was suppose to get, "beat-up" at, as I was studying the word I heard the Spirit say, people have to watch how they treat my friends. I didn't think He was talking about me since He mention what happened to people who came against Moses. I thought to myself, "He once called me His friend, but that was eight years ago. Mostly I thought of my many failures in the last eight years, surely I'm no longer His friend. A couple of days later He asked me why I try to put Him in time. Eight years is a long time to me, but nothing to Him. That was His way of letting me know I'm still His friend, and to remind me He lives in the eternal. I have a puny way of seeing things sometimes. Yesterday, when I thought I would lose the last remaining patient I possess with the guy, Jesus said to me, No greater love has anyone that they lay down there life for a friend.

I guess I have always thought that scripture was referring to Jesus sacrifice, which it was, but the word is always a two-edged sword. I went back and reread it. Jesus told the disciples he no longer called them servants, but He now call them friend. I didn't lose patience, I did however take the booze from the guy. Through all I had to endure in the last few days, I did have an opportunity to minister to the guy. He broke a few times and told me some of the things that has happened to him. He cried, but he tried not to. I told him to get it out, he has held other people sin to long. He finally said, "I was just a kid why wouldn't anyone love me?"

Today the Holy Spirit let me know that I'm the first person he has told most of his story to. I pray that his soul is liberated from the awfulness of his past. I think fifty years is long enough to hold it. I pray that I will learn when to be there, when to pull back, when to speak and when to listen. The guy told me the reason he told me his story is, because I'm holy and loving. I'm always amazed at how others view me. It's not like I don't tell my story in the bible study. I'm so far from holy, and I'm just learning how to love.

During these last few weeks, I have had several melt-downs. I cried to Abba, "these people are in bad shape they need healing and deliverance. I told him I'm not qualified he should get someone else. He told me it's His work, and to yield to Him. I wrote a long-winded, crybaby email to my pastors wife. They moved to Israel a few years ago. She wrote back several times even though she was in flight back to Israel from Florida. She said I was pastor to the people at the bible study. I think that scared me more then anything I have dealt with recently. I don't mind the thought of running a bible study. It feel more flexible. I can stop and leave at anytime. I can quit without notice, give up, throw in the towel. I never replied to her last email, nor did I pray about it.  I guess I should encourage the souls from the bible study to find a nice church to attend. I did at first, but many are church hurt. One woman when I first met her she said, " I hate it when people try to force religion on me." She's one of the most faithful and loving.

I guess we are all grasping in dark murky waters looking for a lifeline. We need each other. We have to go from being a bench warmer in the church to a friend of Jesus, and His friends lay down their lives for Him, because He laid down his life for his friends.

Fearless