Like Jesus

Years ago, when I was still married, my girls were in car seats and I was a Sunday school teacher, I went on a weekend getaway with some women from church. On the drive back, one woman decided we needed to do more bonding. She said we had to each go around and state one thing about each person. One woman got to me and said, "You remind me of Jesus"

Yeah, that gave me pause. Me? Like Jesus? Funny how little they know me. But for some reason, I never forgot that and over the years, it's becoming more obvious what she means.

I love the unlovable, the broken. the tossed aside, those who live on the fringe of society. They are my soul mates, they are the ones who have my heart. I connect with them.

Now, I am not in a state of delusion and declaring myself anything great. I'm so far from that. I am masterful with my imperfections. I have no strong religious connections and I don't believe I am going to be performing any miracles any time soon. At least not the type that result in food being multiplied or rising from the dead.

I see the hurting in the world and instead of wanting to run, I gravitate towards them and I want to know them, all of them. A person who has suffered, who has struggled, they have a determination, a grit about them that is, well, beautiful. It's as if you can see the strength they have acquired from making it through, or in some cases, being right in the middle of something so hard, it can make a person cave.

But they don't, not completely. They keep going. No matter how hard, how painful, how seemingly impossible it seems, they keep going. So maybe, reflecting back, I'm not drawn to their pain but their strength.

Because it's a strength I recognize. Kindred spirits, drawn to each other.

I have never desired a life of ease, wealth or success but a life of purpose. And I have fought to get there. To get here. Some days, I have screamed, sobbed, raged, ran away. However, I never gave up and I kept going. Because of this, I have been left with scars that will never heal and I don't want them to.

I'm making peace with how my life has unfolded. I'm making peace with the loss of, at one time, what I thought it should be.

I'm nothing like Jesus, not even close. Not from the stories I heard of him in my childhood. But I'm grateful for a soul so full, it is obvious to others around me. That my love shows through. Because, really, in the end, that is all I want to be: loving.

And if that is all I ever accomplish in my life, loving others, I will pass on to whatever is next with peace.