#2 My Friendship Is not Merit-Based

This is the second on my list of "Ten Things to Remember" in times of personal distress. By the way, the book I read had a list of "hooks" to memorize as an aid to memorizing other things. The first item on the list was the alarm clock (an old-fashioned type with one button on top and perhaps set for one o'clock) that wakes us up first thing in the morning. I don't need that aid to remember God's love for me as the top item on my list. It's simply a given.

The second item is the pants with their two legs that we put on when we get up. I do use this one, moving from the pants to a teen book series called The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants about four friends and one pair of pants.

And now on with the commentary.

You probably don't want me for a best friend. I am an introvert, which in this case means I enjoy my own company. I shop alone, go places alone, love to stay home alone. I once had a friend who called me to chat when she got a minute to herself. Really? You are home alone and you pick up the telephone just to chat? I was amazed by the idea. The friendship I offer is more of an out-of-sight-out-of-mind sort of thing.

When someone knocks me down, it's tempting to withhold even my weak version of friendship from them. However, as a follower of Jesus Christ, I need to remember his observation in Matthew 5 that anyone can love those who love them back. It's loving those who despise us that is the challenge and brings the greatest reward.

What this means is that I try to offer a friendly smile, pleasant conversation, and genuine goodwill to anyone and everyone whether or not they deserve it. The creepy passive-aggressive library patron. The social butterfly who has plenty of friends and doesn't even notice me. The sour-faced clerk at the store. The rambunctious child. The guy who left his wife, my friend, for a bottle-blond bimbo. The blond bimbo. (And, yes, I'll learn her name and quit calling her names in my head.) And, sigh ... the person who owes me an apology. After all, it's not as though my friendship is such a precious commodity that I have to reserve it for those who have earned it. Nor will withholding it from those who don't deserve it make the world a better place. Although it seems obvious that the way to correct people who are in the wrong is to turn a cold shoulder their way, I don't actually see that approach to be very effective. People seem far more responsive to those who like them. And so I attempt to nurture grace in my living and keep reminding myself that my friendship is a gift, not something to be earned.