She pushed me aside, not fast and hard, but methodically, as if on purpose. Stepping up to a mutual friend, this woman I’d never met before, placed her hand on the lady sitting down, “She’s my sister.”
I nodded, trying to listen to the sermon at Church under the Bridge.
She twisted and faced me, “I said, she’s my sister. She can be mean. I can too.” (I wasn’t sure they were sisters.)
Feeling some pressure from her voice like she was building steam, I countered in a low voice, “Thankfully we have Christ and His all surpassing power for our meanness and our sin.”
She spouted, “The Bible isn’t the only book, you know. It’s not for me.”
“It’s for me. I love my Bible. I pray Christ speaks to you and calls to you.”
She shook her head. “You know, I can be mean.”
“So you say. That’s why we need Christ. His power changes us. He knows we’re all prone to being mean. I know that I need Him.”
She raised her voice. “I have more than one personality. Did you know that? And they’re all mean.”
Sighing, I used my brave voice, “Why do you feel the need to say that? You moved me aside. And now you want me to be afraid of you?”
Placing her hand on the shoulder of her friend again (like she had control), the woman in the chair ignored us. Now the bold-woman got inches from my face, leaning in. “You should be scared. I’m mean.” Her voice was serious, her countenance firm.
I shared more brave words. “Remember Christ came for our sin? He came for you. Aren’t you tired of being mean?”
She dropped her arms to her side, sneered at me, and responded, “Maybe.” Her intense and glaring stare softened and she glanced down.
I whispered, “I have no idea why you came over to me. But I’m thankful for you. And even more thankful that Jesus has you at church today. I hope you hear Him.”
A homeless friend who combed the strands of his long hair called to me. “Ms. Pam.” He hugged me in the same breath, and my “not-friend-yet” who had spoken a wee-bit aggressively watched me move away.
With a few feet between us, she turned to listen to the preaching, but gave me one more blue-eyed stare, one that told me she wasn’t through talking to me.
As I think of her now , I hope and pray she really does hear from Christ. I pray for her surrender, and for the wall she has around her heart to fall. For Christ to give her a “new heart” for all her personalities.
And I pray this for myself. That I live in complete surrender to Christ. That He delivers me from my own selfishness. For I too, can be mean! I need His hand on my shoulders at all times! I need Him for all of my personalties, too!