“Now I’ve seen no band of angels
But I’ve heard the soldiers’ songs
Love hangs over them like a banner
Love within them leads them on
To the battle on the journey
And it’s never gonna stop
Ever widening their mercies
And the fury of His love”
I have two roommates. Let me tell you a little bit about both of them and how I came to know them.
First is roommate A. Let’s call her… Isabel. My first contact with Isabel was an email where she detailed what she would be bringing and ways to conserve space. Then we clashed over books. And we were going to have to live together for months. I was going to die.
Roommate B–Sarah–was away at a Christian conference. My first contact was through her father, who informed me that she had been away on a mission trip to Mexico and had only just gotten back before she hightailed it to the conference. We were going to share a room. There would be no secrets left; she would figure out how ungodly I was, and neither of them would like me.
I got to Patrick Henry–which was an adventure in and of itself–and met them in person. They were nothing like I expected.
But they were exactly what I needed.
I needed someone to whom I could tell all the things that I was feeling inside that could not tell anyone–what a horrible person I was, what bitterness I held, my anger at perceived slights–who would tell me that Jesus was awesome anyway, and share her own problems with me. Sarah was that person.
I needed someone to teach me how to be kind and friendly with people with whom I disagreed, and to be friends with me anyway, and Isabel was that person.
Neither of them are perfect, but they are perfect gifts.
For the first time, love seemed like a safe place.
I was comfortable.
To be continued.