A Hard Lesson in God’s Love
The kind of love God calls His people to almost certainly goes beyond our comfort zone. Most of us prefer safe company and familiar faces, but God’s call is rarely about comfort—it’s about compassion. A recent test of my love brought back a vivid memory from years ago.
About thirty years ago, I went to a men’s retreat at our church.
The rustic camp felt a world apart—quiet woods, a chapel, bunkhouses, and a dining hall beneath tall trees. I looked forward to getting to know some of the guys from my Sunday school class. Most were just acquaintances, even after two years together.
On the first night, we crowded into the dining hall for dinner. The big tables at the center filled fast with laughter and stories. After passing through the serving line, I realized every seat at those tables was taken. I ended up alone at a side table.
I’m an introvert, but as a teacher I had to wear an extrovert’s mask all day, every day. By each evening I was drained and needed quiet to recharge. Sitting alone didn’t really bother me; there are things worse than dining alone.
A man I’ll call Joey drifted through the dining hall, looking for a seat with his longtime friends, but seeing none, he reluctantly ended up at my table. Sharing a table with me likely felt as inviting as sitting next to a wasp nest. We exchanged some awkward small talk, while Joey glanced back occasionally at the big table, maybe hoping to catch pieces of conversation he was missing out on. The buzz of laughter and warmth at those tables only amplified the quiet at ours.
Feeling like I was an unwanted consolation prize, I finished up my dinner and stepped outside to be alone with my thoughts. For what it’s worth, I don’t blame Joey; what I saw in him then, I see in me today.
Not long ago, at another church event, I was looking to join a table of friends. But I noticed someone else—a man sitting alone, someone who always seemed a bit on the margins. I wish I could say I chose differently and sat with him, but it shames me to admit I did not.
All through that meal, he stayed on my mind. If there’s anything I know, it’s that Jesus would have crossed the room, pulled out a chair, and shown compassion. For many, following His example means stepping outside our comfort zones, but our walk demands it.
I pray that next time, I’ll cross the room, pull out that chair, and love as Jesus would.
“Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25:40)
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” (John 13:34)
. . . and that’s what I know today.
