Yesterday I noted that I am spending a lot of time lately with some interesting folks — dealers, addicts, prostitutes and prisoners (and some of the folks I have been hanging with are all four of those!)
Some I just hang with… others are becoming real friends. They often know my story and we talk a lot about Jesus and the Gospel. I am not their mommy or case-worker, but I do hope as their friend that they take steps towards God and out of some of the crap they are stuck in (and that is my prayer for you too… and myself!)
And I like these folks. I’m not a martyr for hanging out with them. They are fun, have great stories, and are real people. They also have a lot of hurt and crap and brokenness in their lives.
And sometimes being involved as a friend is really hard… and messy… and uncomfortable.
And sometimes I want to bail to where it is safe and respectable and predictable.
Sometimes it is easier to pontificate about people than to actually love people.
Sometimes I wish I could get back to the protected space of a pastor’s office… say nice safe prayers… talk about the radical love of Jesus… but not have to do much about it.
Sometimes I want to bail.
And often that is what makes sense. To reasonable people.
But I am learning that the guy I follow and surrender my life to is not always (or often) reasonable.
He is passionate, wild, crazy, irresponsible, unpredictable and frankly, dangerous to be around.
And so I don’t bail… because he doesn’t bail… on me or them.