My Friend

Some people wear their goodness on their faces and in their words for anyone and everyone to share. Other people are in pain and hide their goodness. They ration it out from deep inside. Maybe they don't have much to go around, so they keep it back just for a special few. But if we can be patient with the hard people, sometimes we are so blessed as to see their kindness. May we receive their smile, their blessing, their prayers, and may we be blessed indeed.

Thank God for the saints who are walking around among us who are willing to be faithful to the pricks and the bastards, because they hold the keys to our salvation. These friends are truly Christ-like in their love.

My husband is a faithful man.

Our friend Dr. Janet brought Robert Dorn to the Vineyard for the first time about three years ago. He was terminally ill and more than a little spaced out. His comments were pretty clearly intended to scare us off. He wanted to make it clear to us that he was an asshole and we wouldn't like him...but we did. I think what I liked about him most in those first few months was his gruffness; society paints a picture for you of how you should die--all peaceful and grateful for the time you've had. Robert wasn't like that. He was pissed that he was sick, angry at his body, cursing, and threatening with every turn for the worse to blow his brains out. He was a prick, but he was honest and he was entertaining. Ben and I took to him immediately, and he took to Ben.

I don't think it's an exageration to say that after about six months or so, Robert became Ben's best friend in Athens and Ben Robert's. They spent every Sunday after church together. Ben would take Robert home and Robert would talk for hours about anything and everything, and Ben would listen. I gave up on the idea of Sunday lunch with Ben. Sundays were for Robert.

Ben made an investment in him and Robert made an investment in Ben. Robert's heart began to change. He started talking to the frail women at church. He hobbled over to them and really listened to them. If he found out they had a problem or a need, he was insistent with us--what we were going to do for them? He started really listening to us, too. When Ben got stressed out about school, Robert asked me if he was OK and encouraged him. When our friend wanted to buy chickens, Robert taught him how to raise them. When I got a chest cold that didn't go away, Robert put his hand on my shoulder and prayed for me.

Somewhere along the way his words turned from poison to kindness, and we knew they were sincere, because he didn't know any other way to be.

Robert died in his own bed in his trailer some time Thursday night or Friday morning. Over the past few years he had become a member of our family and I miss him.

Robert's life causes me to consider God's faithfulness and love. Because God has been faithful to us, and because we hold his love in our hearts, sometimes we can see the potential in others. Loving communities give us the courage to love ugly people. God is so gracious in reaching out to us. I've had the great joy of seeing Him use my husband's faithfulness to turn the stoney heart of the hardest of men toward the gentleness of Christ.

I was blessed to witness this transformation. I am grateful to be married to a person who sees the best in people. I am glad to worship a God who so loves us.