The Bending Low

Tears come in the wake of grace.

I heard the words so softly at first. They didn’t penetrate, because I didn’t know I was in need. I was simply answering a call.

“Can you come? We’d love to hear you again.”

When asked what the theme for their meeting was I accepted without the hesitation it deserved. How to build deep lasting relationships. How? Truly, how?

Surely, it’s not that hard, I have a few.

Then a week later on the long drive to visit family I tuned the radio away from static just in time to hear a message called “How to Develop Authentic Relationships” and it was all about serving. Not one word about better communication. Not a list of ways to deal with conflict. No character training in honesty, integrity or kindness. Only bending low. Only serving.

I was quieted by the profound simplicity of it all. Yes, that God had so obviously given me a message to relay, but also that I needed to hear the message.

I am watching myself more. Seeing the boundaries I’ve laid too close. How little gets past my comfort level. Yes, I do sacrifice, but am I like Christ? Would I serve that low?

See it is easy to see serving the “least of these” as the homeless, the destitute and the helpless, but what about the annoying, the manipulative and the vengeful? What about the inconsistent, the pious and the judgmental? What about the greedy, the proud and the gossiping?

holding the phone a little away from my ear, because even the sound of the voice was a little hard to take. The drone of complaints was like a song with the drums off beat with the guitar. I want to help but I’m helpless to pierce the wall built of pride and pity. I never offer much, yet the calls continue to come. I know somewhere in the softer part of my heart that there is benefit in my ear and that if I simply leave the conversation by pulling back the curtains even an inch to show the brighter side, things will be a little better.

As I hung up I cringed at my own shortsightedness. I had listened as if I were talking to myself. The independent thinker, the introvert, the one who likes to learn on her own. I had suggested the books that had the needed answers. Like offering medicine to someone who needs a blanket.

Words on pages aren’t always what is needed. A friend. Someone to lean close to. Someone who listens, understands and believes you all the way out of your cave. Books can’t do that. I need to be a friend.

And I don’t want to.

Today it floods back to me. The wake of lessons of grace I missed. The need for bending. Not because I need a friend, but because someone else does.

Jesus didn’t need relationships with His disciples. Yet He washed their feet. The feet that would run away. The feet of those who would deny Him and the one who would betray Him. Bending low doesn’t exclude anyone and honor may not be fitting for a fool, but there are times we have to allow him to try it on anyway.

The river of Grace doesn’t direct itself around the rocks, it runs straight at them. It won’t penetrate, but it will rub off, it will keep flowing until the shape changes. Until what was sharp becomes smooth.

Grace pursues, cleanses, warms and feeds. It is not averse to disease, pain, slander or risk. Grace is a river fed by love and it cannot change it’s course. We are encouraged to lie down near it’s stillness, to drink from it’s purity, wade in it’s shallow, bathe in it’s power and swim in it’s depths.

Most of all, we are commanded to share it’s source.

“I give you a new commandment: that you should love one another. Just as I have loved you, so you too should love one another. By this shall all [men] know that you are My disciples, if you love one another [if you keep on showing love among yourselves].” John 13:34-35 Amplified