Beginnings

Two miserable girls in a drab dorm room, each brooding on her harsh lot, each huddled on her own side of their insurmountable, and yet insufficient partition. And yet, one of them is stumbling through inscrutable darkness, lashing out at the Pathgiver, the Lightgiver, the One who is the way. One of them is sinking under the burden of her offenses, under the terror and grief of a broken home, a shattered family, and a heart hardened by abandonment. Under a vicious
cycle of exploitation and abuse. You could call her annoying, self-centered, inconsiderate, ponder for hours over the million nit-picky little things people are so good at doing to annoy those with whom they live from day to day. You could tell your side of the story- tell it with passion and conviction, and a deep sense of grievance. And maybe you'd be 'right'. But that's too simple.
It isn't a clear cut case of the 'good girl', and the 'bad girl'- the 'sinner' and the 'saint'. It isn't 'us' against 'them'. It's we. Because the saint is a sinner as well. I don't know everything she's thought, or said, or done. I'd probably be horrified if I did. But my life, looked at with that degree of perception, wouldn't be much prettier. People have DIFFERENT weaknesses- but they can never honestly claim to be WITHOUT weaknesses. Our pastor a few weeks ago said. "If you knew me, knew me as I really am- every thought that crosses my mind, every weakness in my character, you would despise me- and given the same knowledge, I would probably feel the same way about you. But Jesus Christ loves us both."
There is only one substantial difference between the sinner and the saint, between the two girls struggling in this chilly little room. One of them, as absolutely foul and rotten as she is, has been drawn into the stern, tender embrace of God in the flesh- of the Almighty Creator who came, and who died. The other is still resisting. But it doesn't have to stay that way. Can the daughter of the King lay aside her 'rights', knowing it might mean freedom for the the one whose life He has, at least temporarily linked to hers? Is she willing to consider the soul of one who could almost be considered an enemy from the human standpoint as more important than her own desire to sleep when she pleases, or study in peace, or leave the windows open on warm days? Can she take unjust criticism with humility- and even have the humility to recognize that the criticism may not be so unjust? That she may not be the ideal roomate she likes to think herself? Is she willing to give up her self righteousness, her tastes, her preferences, her time? Can she do it joyfully? Will she yield her self- pity, her frustration, her fears up to Him? Will she keep loving, even when there's no response? Will she keep loving when the response is hostile? Will she place a guard on her tongue? Will she pray when she'd rather explode? Will she do all of this without any smugness or false sense of virtue?
I'm not sure. The girl I've always known her to be could never manage it. The girl I am has not the faintest idea of what it might mean to TRULY empty herself that way. She's too weak, too lazy, too prideful, too self-centered, too eager to justify herself at the expense of others, to avoid unpleasant situations. She hardly knows where to begin. But maybe it's not up to that girl at all. I can't claim any 'moral superiority'- but my Lord can. I can't stand in judgment, or even discern my roomate's needs, but He is passionately aware of every hair on her head. I can't soothe her through her hurts and hearbreaks- I can't fix even one corner of her poor broken life. But He can change her heart. Am I willing to surrender us both to Him? It won't be easy. It won't be comfortable. It won't happen right away. And yet, there's something new which I've become in Him. Something beautiful which He may yet become in her. Something exciting ahead for us all. Do I dare? He has dared it all for me already, and conquered defeat. What's to lose?