walk beside me

I feel as if one of the worst things you can say to someone is:

"Well, why don't you just fix the problem?"

So many implications in so short a phrase.

I had a conversation with a friend on Sunday, and I like to suggest ways that people can put their lives in order and be happier in general. But it's not in our hands to make such a change. Our lives are driven by His grace.

I get frustrated with people. Frustrated that they can't just pull their emotions together out of depression, frustrated that they can't just step outside their comfort zones and do something they don't feel like doing, frustrated that they break their promises, frustrated that they don't just study harder, frustrated that they spend so much time complaining about their circumstances, frustrated they can't just rejoice and sing praises to God. I oft feel the same way about myself.

How little our strength; how little our love for one another.

On SportsCenter today, they were talking about Tim Tebow and how much he sucks. Yes, I agree, he's definitely not a great quarterback. Not even above average. But one of the analysts said something like:

"What I don't understand is why Tebow doesn't just pull it together. He's a smart guy, he's a hard worker, he's responsible. Why can't he just fix his throwing motion? Why can't he just be a great NFL quarterback?"

In other words:

 "Well, why doesn't he just fix the problem?"

And I think this is it. No doubt he's doing his best, but we live in a grace-less world. What's amazing is that you can be a smart guy, a hard worker, do your best all the time, and still fall short of peoples' expectations. Of God's expectations.

And what this friend I talked to told me was that I was leaving him hanging. I told him to step out of his shell, I told him to find a means, to try harder, to work harder, because what he was now just wasn't good enough. I gave him a mountain to ascend with no path to the top; I gave him a river to cross with no raft. But perhaps most importantly, I gave him a struggle to suffer through, with no one to walk alongside him.

It's dang hard to love people unconditionally. God affirmed people when they were nobodies. So many prophets, so many people: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Moses, Gideon... Jesus loved the rag-tag group of nobodies he called his disciples before they were anyone great. But I think the greatest assurance of knowing Him is the simple promise that He will walk alongside us, no matter how far along we are:

"And surely, I am with you always, to the very end of the age." (Matthew 28:20)

I want to learn, similarly, to say that I am committed to loving people, even if they never become anybody, if they never turn out the way I'd like, and to walk them through instead of beckoning from the top of the hill.