“I’d like another hug,” she said to me. I obliged. Gladly.
I embraced my friend American style, surrounded by the members of our church. Earlier I’d hugged my friend Leslie to near death, tears pocking my eyes.
I didn’t cry this time, though I felt I might.
“I want to tell you something,” she said.
I nodded, noting the kindness of Jesus in her eyes.
“I see Jesus in you.”
All the tears I thought I’d shed burgeoned out of me like an overswolen river in spring. “You have no idea how much that means to me,” I said. After two difficult years, I’d wondered what was left of me. But that’s when Jesus shines the more, isn’t it? When we’re weakened and needy?
I shared some stories of my struggles, the kind that don’t make it into prayer request emails or support letters. In her eyes, I saw empathy, the type of empathy I needed to see, to experience.
Thank you, Pam, for your words, for listening to Jesus and encouraging me. I love you.
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